Well it’s the new year. New years day or something.
Yesterday evening (new years eve), was fun. I saw all my best Charlotte friends, my love and her sister. Good people, loyal caring friends. Love these people. They’re few, but we get each other and none of us can keep a straight face for too long before cracking over some dirty or inappropriate jokes. So yeah I had fun. I didn’t really drink, played the DD roll. Really appreciative of people that get in to that shit. With one exception that kind of topped off the night, everything was great. Beers, cards against humanity at a local beer shop with friends and complete strangers, visited a few house parties, hell I even slapped a bass guitar for a few minutes, then we called it a night.
Last year I choose to celebrate my NYE at a church. Most of which consisted of waiting outside in the freezing cold, then getting my ear drums destroyed by loud music inside. Afterwards I hit a diner and had french toast, went home and went to sleep. Thinking back, I didn’t have a good time at all.
Anyways…
The year before that, myself and the girl I was seeing at the time decided to visit her family in Charleston SC. Well…North Charleston, SC. There’s a clear distinction between the areas. It’s called….oh yeah that’s right, it’s called gentrification. It’s close enough to touristy things downtown. We planned on doing NYE in downtown Charleston. I contested this decision, thought it was a bad idea. Mostly because how expensive everything is there and how little parking there is.
So before we went out, her stepfather and I decided to go buy fireworks…because why not. America.
Collectively we probably spend around 200 bucks on fireworks. I get about 50 dollars worth of roman candles alone, because they give off the “fooomp” sound when fired….I could hardly wait. The night now had purpose.
Get these people to a bar, pound some beers in to them, get home and chuck norris double fist roman candles into the sky while listening to the star spangled banner and riding a bald eagle chugging mountain dew, maybe even high five a bear and kill some indians. Then throw all the trash on the ground and go to bed. Murica.
Getting to a bar in downtown is extremely easy, there’s a bunch. Seriously, if you throw a boatshoe or a sailboat belt down there you’ll hit….a bar, or someone wearing a la coste pink polo.
Getting inside any bars for under 100-200 dollars however…not so easy. So after some searching we find a hole in the wall.
12 dollar Michelob ultra….that all you have?
“Yeah brah”
:: Fuck ::
give me 6.
20 minutes before the ball drops, it was decided that we should leave because it’s lame in the bar, they have no TV’s to watch said ball drop. Which is apparently very important, because dick clarks weekend at bernies dead body says so.
We race home. My station wagon goes plaid. I get us back just in time for Justin Bieber and other assorted pop stars to lip sync the destruction of some classic songs.
I contemplate killing myself….
Ball drops!!!
I’m out the damn door. In one hand I have a lighter, and a handful of AMERICA in the other. It’s pitch black outside. Cold and windy. I fire up a tube of roman candles and so does the stepfather. Completely awesome.
Rad. Cool.
Let’s go total america with this shit. Let’s shoot roman candles and bottle rockets at the same time. YES.
We were about to effectively cross the beams. We light up, take aim, and fire.
Anyways…
Turns out we aimed directly at a woman who had been either just standing there watching, or sleeping in the yard. We had no idea she was “there”. We had created a world in which we were comparable to Odin and controlled the realm in front of us with balls of fire and explosions….we may have just been distracted by how amazing this experience was.
Well…Anyways…
We had fired for effect and this woman had become a casualty of war from our danger close incoming rounds. After some flailing about, screaming, and cussing….this woman ran off down the road.
At which point the stepfather turns to me and says, “it’s ok shes a crazy crackhead anyway, we’ve seen her around”.
We go inside and have a cup of coffee and call it a night.
So I guess the lesson here, well what I took away from this event, is that it’s no big deal to blast crackheads with fireworks. Not in North Charleston South Carolina anyhow.
Well...Anyways 