Back in LA now… just in time for another raging New Year’s Eve party. Nothing unorthodox… just your typical 50-person-pre-party/hotel-party/post-party nine-hour rampage of debauchery. College friends Adam, Adam and Nathan were in town, so we had to show them a good South Bay time.
Many events of the evening were either not remembered or not public-website worthy, but one thing worth mentioning was the evening’s transportation trouble. When planning an otherwise successful pre-party at our house, we failed to considered one very important detail… namely, how to get fifty drunk people from our house to the hotel. Cabs are rare commodities on New Year’s eve, and nobody wanted to walk. It was only about a mile, but between girls wearing heels, the fact that it was raining, and general party laziness, the old biped transit system didn’t seem a very appealing option. The only group who did walk – Adam, Adam and Nathan – were given terrible directions by Sam and ended up tripling their distance and then eventually taking a cab anyway.
And so the only two people sober enough to drive – my friend Craig and myself – ended up making the gametime decision to simply shuttle everyone back and forth in our cars. So in alternating convoys of cars crammed with people, we in about 15 minutes transported everybody the eighty-second drive over to the drop spot. It was kind of like the WWII Allied evacuation of France, where rescuers picked up civilians and soldiers in motor boats and yachts to help them get away from the Germans and to freedom. Except replace “motor boats and yachts” with “a Honda Civic and an old Dodge”, and “to freedom” with “to more alcohol”. But leave “away from the Germans” as it is.
Getting home for the after-party was another story; Craig and I had obliterated our chance of a repeat evacuation by sharing a bottle of champagne within ten minutes of getting to the hotel. Cabs were again impossible, and in the end Adam, Adam and Nathan actually hijacked somebody’s limo to take them home. Actually, replaced “hijacked” with “paid 40 dollars for”, but it was still a pretty good deal, especially given the gigantic Brandy and Coke that Adam #1 mixed himself from the backseat bar to help make up for it. One might say they were in the lap of luxury… for the eighty-two seconds it took the limo to get them home.