‘Happy’ New Year?

By now you’re probably planning what you’ll do for New Year’s Eve, right? You’ll be assembling your crew, weighing up your options, which club to go to, will you go to a different city, will you drive, how many people you’ll roll with. Let me save you some time: your New Year’s Eve will be shit.

This is pretty much a certainty.

I’ve always hated New Year’s Eve and all the over-hyped shenanigans that go with it. We get a New Year every year. I don’t see what all the fuss is about. The last time I went out on New Year’s was when I was about 15. I ended up spending most of the night in a take-away curry joint, due to some mad confusion earlier in the evening. After that, I vowed, no more!

You’ll spend anywhere from £30-£100 on a ticket to a club.

Every club claims to have the hottest New Year’s party and creates a stupid amount of pressure for you to buy tickets to ‘avoid disappointment’. Listen, you’ll be disappointed either way. Either the hype was all for nothing and there are actually only five other people in the place or it’s packed to the rafters and you can’t catch your breath.

During the course of the evening, you’ll witness one, two or a combination of all of the following things:

Some dizzy bitch decided to wear 5 inch platform heels before learning to walk. She falls down stairs. A lot.

A group of friends, way too raucous, popping champagne bottles, dancing as though they’re having a mass epileptic fit.

Two girls who appear to be best friends will: dance together seductively, laughing, playing with each others hair, possibly make out. Five minutes later they’ll be arguing. One slaps the other. Slapped girl runs to bathroom with the slap-er following her, screaming. Slapped throws up in toilets. Both girls cry, hug it out, do a line of coke and get back on the dance floor.

A random guy will be going around the club screaming ‘HAPPY NEW YEAR’ and blowing a horn in everyone’s face at 10.30pm.

Drunken guys fighting. Ad infinitum.

Someone will drop a glass (did it jump, or was it pushed? We’ll never know) on the dancefloor. There’s a collective gasp from the crowd. Everything stops for three seconds until someone who works there locates a dustpan and brush.

A couple will break up after a screaming match of epic proportions.

A girl fight will erupt after one inadvertently glances at the other’s man. The surrounding men will look to oil them up with vaseline and make the dance floor into a mud pit to get them to continue.

A guy and a girl who just met will make out so hard you think you’re on the set of a porno flick.

More drunken guys fighting. Bouncers get in a scuffle trying to get them out.

The combination of drugs, alcohol, disco balls and heat will lead to at least one ambulance being called during the course of the night.

And you paid money for all this? No thanks, I think I’ll pass. Hope you all have a wonderful New Year’s celebration whatever you’re doing. I’ll be in Italy dahling, trying to get married into the Mafia.