We roll out of the house glowing like pigs in blankets
Blinking, heavier, more cholestorol in our heart, less zeros in the bank, more Santas on the mantelpiece.
You can still see the imprint of TV behind your eyelids and hear the shouting about half-price mattresses and sofas, but it’s time to leave the sofa now, let’s Boxing day sale away from all this…
Shaking off Christmas like a tin foil wrapping and stepping into something new, a taxi, you’re sure these trousers used to be looser…oh dear, this driver means business, half the civility at twice the price…drive on, drive! (Jeez, talk about kicking your wallet when it’s down)
Emerging victorious to the brightness of a pub, we blink and stare at the pale herd of human people startled like us from hibernation, mooing over pints and practically chewing cud, just a glint of tinsel in their mollycoddled eyes
We unwrap our necks and hands, shed our outer skins and build a pile of dark wool in the corner which we take it in turns to rummage through from time to time.
Send an ambassador to the bar and start the dogged drinking, chilly fingers, sending coldness down reluctantly to meet the darkness inside for it is tradition, but is this fun? It’s certainly gassy. Your stomach is confused.
You tear up a damp coaster and recount your winning Yorkshire pud technique, another drink arrives.
The music soldiers on, fairy lights don’t give up their twinkling, you check your phones, try some awkward dancing and sit down again when a shit song comes on, the clock moves closer to 12. You muster some cheer from the ruins.
Time to rummage in the stuff.
Pushing on, steamy breath and smoke in the street, you see an old friend but no time to stop, an address to an Uber driver, a party, a kitchen, a jug of something minty…you pit your laughter against the cold, you stroke a cat with tinsel tucked in its collar.
Another drink of something, someone takes your arm, you get introduced to someone called Kate and talk about the film you watched at Christmas but you can’t remember what it was called even though it’s a classic.
A moment of reflection in the bathroom
(pause)
then back into the fray.
Well. My my my my my my my. Who knew bubbly could be so troubly? That last bottle was definitely a good idea though, you feel as muddled as a cocktail and astounded to hear that it’s still last year, apparently. Just about.
Then she glides into the room
A planet entering orbit
Everything tilts just a bit, even the music holds its breath
you smell a cloud of jasmine and see that
hair waterfalling around, caught in haloes of light
and a face that tells a story you want to get in
She is as lit as a chandelier, from inside, twinkling
like someone who lives on top of the tree
but those boots mean business and her earrings are well hung…
Her eyes are crystal caves that meet the sun
As though washed by tears, they capture the light…
Uh oh.
She has a powerful magnetic force
that no one can resist
and you feel the party tip sideways as it gravitates towards her laugh
then you hear the counting
and midnight enters behind her
you greet them both with a kiss
Flash forward, you roam the streets in coats arm in arm
An army of two now and wide awake,
as though you’ve always been hooked this way (and always will)
floating on bubbles, babbling, drinking each other’s thoughts (in the absence of a real drink)
looking for the final party that will sink that old year once and for all
And as the dawn light began to do its ridiculous premature glow across the houses
Her thoughts flicker, and something like this flies by in her mind
Well, My my my my my,
what fancy fortune is this?
I seem to have netted myself a fisherman
and he could be a keeper
Looks like he has the heart of a whale
and some.
and handsome.
(and he has hands. Handy!)
At least, he looks like someone who would know his plaice
from his trout
and could help keep me afloat.
And I think there’s room on my boat.
And so you fly up the road propelled by pleasant thoughts
whilst talking mainly rubbish
and find your final port of call,
a speakeasy where you speak easily for as long as you are allowed
and get in something strong to seal the deal
and raise a glass to the new year
to friends and absent friends, to cheesy chips, Jesus, fish, absent fish, absent Jesus, absent drinks etc.
and as that pesky sun knocks on the window to let it be known in no uncertain terms, the new year has begun
you know it won’t be an ordinary year ever again
and finally stumble home.
