My husband and I don’t go out on New Years Eve. Not since we had kids, I mean. He says it’s “a night for amateurs.” Also, all the crazies crawl out of the woodwork on NYE.
When my father was still in the bar business, he had a New Year’s Eve party every year. He bought a few cases of champagne and made sloppy joes and appetizers for his customers. He gave his regular bartenders the night off, and Doug and I would work the party so that everyone could have a good time.
Every year, people that did not regularly patronize our establishment crashed the party for the free food and champagne. One couple in particular comes to mind. I can’t remember their names, but we called them “The Toothless Wonders” because both husband and wife were missing several front teeth. Doug would joke that they must have gotten into a drunken brawl one night and knocked each other’s teeth out.
The NYE party was not the first time I had to wait on these people. In college I was a waitress at South Point, my aunt Kelly’s 24-hour diner, and this couple would come in for a cup of coffee and stay all night because we offered free refills. They never ordered anything else. They never left a tip. The Toothless Wonders were the epitome of freeloading.
On New Year’s Eve in 2003, the TWs came in right before the party was scheduled to begin. I think the man’s name might have been Dennis, and her name still evades me, but for the sake of this blog entry, we’ll call her Wanda. They secured two bar stools closest to the food table, and Dennis slammed a wad of singles on the bar. Wanda ordered two tappers of Miller and lit a Basic, full flavor cigarette.
“What’s on the menu tonight,” she asked. “Sandwiches or somethin’?”
“Barbecues,” I told her. “And there will be taco trays and cheese and sausage, too.”
“We didn’t eat all day for this,” Dennis told me.
I remember laughing to myself. I’m imagined they starved themselves all day just to make sure they’d get their fill that night. The couple was never dressed very nice. They seemed to wear the same clothes all the time. Dirty jeans, worn out shirts and sweaters, and worker’s boots, despite the fact that neither worked. They lived off SSI and food stamps, and I think Dennis was receiving disability, too.
They were usually very polite, that is until they had a couple beers and began shouting and rudely bumping into other customers on the way to the bathrooms. I didn’t dislike these people, I just found them to be kind of creepy.
On this particular night they were strangely quiet. Mostly because they were constantly refilling their plates and slamming Millers like shots of whiskey. Speaking of whiskey, Dennis decided after the midnight countdown he would like two shots of Kessler. I poured the shots and rang $5.50 into the register.
“Five-fifty!” He yelled. “I’ve been robbed!”‘
I worked throughout the night, tending bar, refilling the food trays and making sure everyone was having a good time. As I was emptying ashtrays into the garbage can, I turned around to see Dennis and Wanda making out by the jukebox. I nearly puked. Customers began to notice it, too. Everyone was uncomfortable with the PDA. I didn’t want to be the one to break up their intimate moment, so I made Doug go over to them. I don’t remember what he said, but The Toothless Wonders stopped sucking face and sat back down.
The rest of the night was uneventful, save for the local lush falling asleep at the bar. This, I could handle.
“Joe! No sleeping on my bar. I don’t drink in your bed!” I hollered.
“Well, ya could if ya wanted to,” Joe slurred.
New Year’s Eve is definitely a crazy night I’m sort of glad I’m too tired to party all night. It’s amazing what becoming a parent does to your social life.
This New Year’s Eve is a quiet one. Dawson and I watched a few episodes of Spongebob. Owen fell asleep in my arms. Doug is listening to old Bob & Tom shows on the radio. Maybe I’ll switch over to ABC for the ball drop in New York City. If I’m awake at midnight, I mean.
Happy New Year! May 2010 bring you much luck, love and happiness!
On the radio this morning, I heard this song and flashed back to my childhood. My father, a Ronnie Milsap fan, played a cassette of Milsap’s greatest hits in the car whenever we took a family trip. My siblings and I know all the words to these songs, and with every country chorus, the memories flood my mind.
Today, you are five years old. I cannot begin to tell you how this blows my mind. Five years ago you were born at 2:53 p.m., weighing 7 pounds, 8 ounces, and measuring 18 1/2 inches from beautiful head to tiny feet.
2004
Watching you grow up has been a joy, but is sometimes challenging. Over the last year you’ve transformed from my little guy into a big boy. You are a passionate and enthusiastic child, with an infectious joie de vivre that infects everyone in your presence.
2005
You love to be outside, exploring nature and investigating every creature and critter; from birds to bugs. A few weeks ago we saw a green caterpillar crawling on the railing of the deck and you exclaimed, “He’s so green! And cute! And tiny!” The smile on your face was priceless, as though this was your first encounter with a caterpillar.
2006
You are motivated by a desire to learn, often asking questions about things you don’t understand. You have the discipline and patience to focus your energy on particular skill or project, and I noticed this while you were playing your Transformers video game on the Nintendo DS. After you vented your frustrations while figuring out what to do, you kept playing the game until you mastered the skill, and then went beyond what you already achieved. Each time you reached a new level you were so proud of yourself. “I did it, Mom!” I heard you shout. “I did it!”
2007
Occasionally, your passionate nature can lead to rebelliousness and you do not like when your father and I discipline you. You are an independent child, someone who must do things on his own time frame. You do not like to be rushed. This was made clear from the way you came into the world.
Doctors induced labor on a Tuesday and you decided you would not be told when to be born. Instead, you waited until Thursday to make your grand debut. To this day, you hate to be told what to do. You’re a very good kid, and you listen to what your dad and I say, but you make sure to do things your very own way.
My biggest challenge as a parent is struggling to find the appropriate discipline methods. I never want to break your incredible spirit. I aim to guide you in making good decisions and to instill in you the values my parents taught me.
2008
You are bursting with energy, and you thrive on competition. Each day after the mailman brings our mail, you jump up and say, “I’ll race you to the mailbox, Mom!” or “Last one there is the rotten egg!” Of course you win because your skinny legs are much quicker than mine. I am forever the rotten egg when it comes to mailbox racing.
You are a warm-hearted child. You care about the feelings of others and you love to offer hugs to make people feel happy. When someone is sad you try to cheer them up with your adorable smile and charming blue eyes. On the first day of 4-year-old kindergarten you said to me, “Now, don’t cry, Mom. I’m going to have so much fun! Don’t cry, okay? I love you so much.” And I didn’t cry. Well, not until a week later when you got on the school bus for the first time. It was difficult to watch a piece of my heart ride off without me.
2009
Your manners are impeccable. You are polite and courteous and never forget to say “please” or “thank you” or “your welcome” and when you are speaking to adults, you always open your conversation by saying “excuse me”. Last week we went to the library and another girl sneezed. I was so proud when I heard you say “God Bless You” and the Librarian remarked on how well-mannered you are.
Several times each day you’ll come by me and ask for a hug or kiss, and my heart melts when I hear you say things like, “I just love you so much, Mom!” It’s moments like these that make me want to freeze time. You’re growing up so fast. It feels like just yesterday I was holding you in the hospital, clumsily trying to nurse. I remember looking into your eyes and thanking the Lord for my little miracle. Oh, how I wish I had a rewind button.
I love your laugh. I love when you giggle at funny things. I love that you look forward to reading books with me before bed time. I love that you are so excited to be a big brother. But most of all, I love you very, very much. You’ll always be my baby.
I’m sitting around at home on this lazy Saturday, home alone — no hubs or Dawson to commandeer the remote — so I’m flipping through the channels and discover that the Sex and the City movie is on HBO. I saw this movie on opening day in the theater. I loved it so. I laughed. I cried. I ooohed and ahhhed over the fashion. I fell in love with New York City all over again.
I pre-ordered the movie on DVD and when it arrived several weeks later, I couldn’t bring myself to watch it again. I still haven’t watched it for a second time. In fact, when I caught a glimpse of it while surfing channels, I quickly chose a different movie to watch. (Ocean’s Thirteen if you must know.)
To be perfectly honest, the reason I cannot watch the SATC movie again is because I loved it so much the first time. I’ll explain this in a moment.
My husband finds this completely strange. Strange because I still watch the seasons (I have all six boxed sets) every so often.
“Why is it you can watch an entire season in one sitting, but you won’t play the movie? I haven’t seen it yet.” Doug says.
“Well, if you want to watch it, just say so and I’ll go do something else.”
“I don’t get it. You love Sex and the City. You were addicted to that show and cried when it went off the air.”
“I know,” I say. “It’s just that the movie was so amazing, everything I wanted it to be. I feel like I’ve been given closure, a happy ending.”
Don’t get me wrong. I love the series because it’s awesome. And the movie is wonderful. I just think that if I watch it again I’ll want more.
I know that Sex and the City 2 is in the works and while I’m very excited and will no doubt be first in line at the theater, I also worry that the new movie won’t be as good, or that it will leave much to be desired. Why try to top a good thing?
Thinking about all of this makes me miss New York. It was a year ago in April that I visited the Big Apple and fell in love with the Flatiron and the Empire State Building and Bethesda Fountain. And the Brooklyn Bridge.
Yes, I miss New York. Someday, I’ll go back.
Maybe I will watch the movie again, just so I can reminisce all the things I love about my favorite big city.
Dana began her Mom career in 2004 with the birth of her first son, Dawson, aka The Doodlebug, and little brother, Owen, was born in 2009. She spends her days putting out fires, climbing mountains and chasing monsters. More About Dana.
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