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Tuesday, December 4, 2012

My favorite holiday memory

 My friend Francine Lasala and her women author friends are doing an 8 Holiday Questions blog. I am no chick, but I thought I would share a few of mine.

I am no chick, but I do ask a lot of questions and think I have a lot of answers, so here goes.
Here is my first installment.

 What is your best (or worst) holiday memory?

My best and worst is the same one. My friends (myself and 3 others,  Ronnie, Mark J. and Paul) first year in University, which was 1985, was a year I took off before going to college. We all decided to go to New York City for Christmas and New Years. On New Years Eve, two of us went to Times Square early, while the other two of us went later. We were staying at a very nice,  upscale Broadway hotel. I think it cost 400 bucks a night, which for that time was a lot of money.
Anyway, Ronnie and I went to Time Square very early, we were at the very front of the line. By the time the ball dropped at midnight (about 6 hours later) there must have been 1 million people behind us, all pushing forward. There were also some very nasty black kids "from the hood" who were bullies and rude. One decided he wanted to mess with me. So, after drinking himself drunk and hitting on some girls (which we didn't know), he decided to drop his pants and pee on the ground, which was very close to my feet. He was basically daring me to do something about it, which I would not. I am brave, but I am not stupid. There were 6 of them, 2 of us, and I am guessing he had a knife or gun in his jacket. I wasn't about to find out either way whether I was right about that.
Later on, after we got back to the hotel, Mark J. and Paul were there.  Paul was laughing and Mark J. was doubled over in pain. They never made it to where we were at Times Square. I was thinking how lucky they were not to have to deal with that, but then I realized we had the better night. Paul and Mark J. headed back to the hotel around 10pm and missed the ball falling. However, they ordered Pizza and ate the whole thing. Which wouldn't be so bad, except that Paul gave him orange juice and didn't tell him it had a lot of vodka in it. By the time they were done, Mark J. was throwing up,  EVERYWHERE. He always had a weak stomach and he took some pills which didn't mix well with the alcohol, and the pizza only made it worse. We went to bed around 2am, but he was throwing up in the bathroom all night. It was really ugly, but the other 3 of us were laughing our heads off. 
The next day, we went out and came back, and in the hallway we could hear the maid telling the head maid that "she wasn't cleaning that shit up!" but in the end, she did. We had to avoid her for the rest of the trip.
We all still laugh about that trip. To this day.  
And I can tell you with a virtual certainty that I will never go near Times Square on New Years Eve ever again. And I advise you not to either. Those people are crazed animals. But it made for a great story. 

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