It wasn’t like past years. No sitting around listening to honey, honey, honey. No wining. No bitching. No deciding as a group. Nothing would stop this years new year from sucking less than previous years. Well, maybe. I was stuck in Nebraska. The middle of it. Spending time with the p’s the kids and the rest of the fam. To top it off nothing was going on in their little town, so I zoomed off to a bigger town in search of a party, a band and better beer then the both kinds they have at either of the two locals.

If you can call Omaha a bigger town. It’s so small town thinking. In the morning after paper there will be a article about how many people the cops “caught” drinking and driving. It will be like 70 or 138 some stupidly low number. Earth to Omaha cops, come in cops…. everyone is drinking and driving.

Anyway. I hit the road. Hours later, I parked the car and walked to a proper pub.

New Years night was off the hook. I ended up at the Dubliner. There was an Irish band sawing away. And like all Irish bands singing songs, after a few beers you know all the words. At some point I was asked up on stage to sing with the band. It takes some beers to accomplish that trick. After my second song, I was out of beer. Not to fear because hot chics were buying the band beers. It was fun while it lasted. The band took a break returning me to the audience member status.

Somebody tapped me on the shoulder and said, “Dr Houston?” She was tall and couldn’t have been more than 26. “Debbie?” I quizzed? “Becky” she replied, “how are you, I’m surprised to see you here, I never knew you could sing?” This goes on for like 10 minutes. She introduces me to her BF soon to be H who is three sheets. He doesn’t like me instantly. Time goes by more songs are sung beer disappears and then needs to be given back. I’m standing in line. And there’s Becky. “Your BF doesn’t like me,” I said. “He’s that way. Come with me.” I follow and she leads me to the back through a door where the stairs to upstairs which was the way to sneek in our under age dates back in the day. “I’ve always wanted to do this…” she said. Waa… was all I could think. Door is closed “I always liked you Dr. H.” My line next line was tough. It could have been “really?” or “nuh, uh?” or something else sophomoric. Instead I chose, “I know.” Poor Dr H. His one chance for fantasy fulfilled busted over a case of mistaken identity. Ten minutes later all breathless she says, “I’m at the Hilton room 703 (or something) Find me later.”

At 1 the band said goodnight and we were all ushered out into the cold. I was talking with some people who then invited me to an after party. It was a short walk away, it was in a building that used to be something else made into lavish condos. I was there for maybe five minutes when two very large guys asked me, “who are you? who do you know? we don’t know you!” I didn’t know the names of people I came with and the place was big, dark and loud. I shrugged. They asked me to put my beer down and come with them. To my non surprise I was shown the door. “Sorry, buddy, we just don’t know you.” Two against one, I didn’t argue. It was then I remembered Becky. Crap. Too late for Becky. I staggered to back to Harney Court Apt 10. Home away from home away from home.

Today I was glad I didn’t stay. Waking up it was clear, the many beers I’d had before the after party was enough were enough to make me want to say the words “never again” again. Adding more wouldn’t have been good. Besides, who’s to say that what happened when I got “home” wouldn’t have happened there. Which was, “zzzzzzz, zzzzz, zzzzz, fart, zzzzzz.” I’d have been shown the door anyway. So it’s just as well they got me when I was in walking order. And hindsight, which is really sight without beer goggles, tells me Becky was trouble. She’d have woken up to the fact that I wasn’t Dr H or BF would have been there complicating the why of me being there at the same time. Good luck Becky where ever you are and merry new year to you Dr Houston. Cause without you’d I’d never would have made it to second. Ya lucky bastard.

Names of people but not places changed to protect all of us.