The Luv Doc
New Year's Eve Letdown
My wife always wants to go out on New Year’s Eve, and she always ends up being disappointed. Something always goes wrong: the band/DJ sucks, the food sucks, the drinks are too expensive, the people are lame, the party’s too crowded. By time the clock strikes midnight she is usually in a bad mood. And yet, she always wants to do it again every year. I would just like to have a quiet evening at home with a few friends. Should I slip her a roofie?
Nick, you may be onto something with the roofie thing, but I am not sure it’s entirely legal to roofie someone – even your wife. However, that roofie thing has its advantages – rhetorically at least. Of course, you would need to dream up some fantastic story to lay on her when she comes to. That way you might be able to convince her she had a really awesome New Year’s Eve. Maybe get her a really trashy tramp stamp, or scrawl Ryan Gosling’s autograph on her boobs with a sharpie. Regardless you would have to spray her down with Champagne, tousle her hair, and smudge her mascara. No one goes through a truly epic evening unscathed. The problem with New Year’s is that everyone expects something special to happen. We’ve been programmed to believe that on that particular evening an old year ends and a new one begins. It’s absolutely true, but it’s also absolutely true of every other day of the year and every minute and second of our lives. We just choose to ignore it. That’s probably a good thing because all the un-mined potential of human existence – both in ourselves and in the world around us – can be quite a burden. Imagine waking up every morning feeling like you should seize the day – instead of say, lounging around in your sweat pants doing bong hits and watching Workaholics episodes on Netflix. No, it’s much better to feign ambition and aspirations of grandeur just once a year and get it over with. Get wasted on Champagne, put on a silly hat, blow on a noisemaker, and pretend that this lap around the sun will be the game changer, the one where you suck it up, lose some weight, get your shit together, and find a cure for cancer … or invent the solar powered air car … or maybe the next Fleshlight. You can’t celebrate potential monumental achievements like that sitting around your living room playing Pictionary with a bunch of losers. You need to be at the Four Seasons Ballroom – or maybe the W – surrounded by classy people drinking classy drinks and engaging in classy conversation. That’s really the only way to ensure a momentous year – you know, the bigger the wedding the better the marriage, right? Balls out for 2013, bro! But should you roofie your wife? Definitely not. Just explain that nothing really big is going to happen this year and that accordingly, you’d like to bring it in on the down low. Tell her you’re saving your party boner for 2014. You’re going to stomp the shit out of that year for sure.