How can you describe New Years Eve parties? They’re like alchemy for our lives- but we’re too self conscious to even give them the chance to change.
I had left San Francisco 7, maybe 8, hours ago. My old friends had met me at the airport then brought me to this party. Truth be told, I hate New Years. There are always people you don’t know, small talk, and, as if it was theater, your New Years’ kiss is never who you hope.
You spend the night scanning the room for the best of all options only to settle for the person next to you when Dick Clark’s ghost comes on the television.
I had resigned myself to this after arriving. I had greeted the host. I had taken a couple of drinks from the bar. I started waiting patiently for 11:30 pm when she walked in the door.
The music didn’t stop, but my breath did.
Then I took a shot of oxygen and did a double take. She was standing in a regal black dress- stringy straps from the back.
She wasn’t walking towards me, but she was walking in my direction.
“Hi,” She said before darting her eyes.
“It’s hard to make a joke when you say so little.”
“What do you do?”
“You’ll never believe this, but I’m the one that actually manages Wilco.”
“I’d never try to break you heart.” I say, and it really is full of love.
Best. Kisser. Ever.