jon 1.1

And it was a typical night indeed. Even though we were ushering in the new year, the sky stayed the same color. No midnight theatrics here, just a crowded room and some drunk chick on the stage with a mic in her hand.

She had a pink dress on, it was strappy and looked satin, and a small pot belly and short hair. She started the countdown at twenty instead of ten. By eight everyone was bored and the 2006 came in with a limp hurrah. The bottle of champagne in her hand said different. It sloshed and swerved in the blooming celebration.

I want some weed, I thought.

L-Chapelle was on the roof, shuffling in the sludge of this afternoons snow. The last snow of 2005. The years final, flaccid effort of weather. It didn’t stick though, it melted as soon as it hit the pavement. Its legacy but a few white blankets on few forgotten cars, and some sludge on a williamsburg rooftop.

This is boring, we agree, and march towards the door. I got distracted and checked out the band for a couple numbers. Some early 80s outfit, synths and drums and some beuaty in a long sweater dress with a red studded belt and a voice like low fat gravy. a few people sang along, in drunken slurs and howls. I got hot and tired and stepped out before it got interesting, if it ever did at all.

We head to another loft, one with fewer people. There are chips but the dips at the bottom of the bowl. Some cute asian girl with no curves but nice tits takes our jackets and points to the champagne. Only five people are dancing, all guys, all loose. L-smiles starts to flirt and I hit the tostidos. Eventually we get bored with the ipod shuffle and make our exit into the street.

Some car stops, thirty bones to park slope. nah fuck that we’ll take our chances. two minutes later a cab swoops us up and its fifteen dollars cheaper so we pile in and hit the palace.

Shes got one thing on her mind. I smoke a spliff and crawl in the sack. We fuck and come and then she ask if i want to ever have kids. Sure why not some day maybe. Her eyes close and she smiles and starts breathing real heavy. I decide I should write for a bit and think, this is it, the new year. More special than the last but not by much so far, and grab my laptop for the first time in '06.