The Weird Thing

“I just sat around,” I said. “It's my least favorite holiday. Did a bunch of work, actually. Mo was bartending and I didn't feel like going out. How'd you do?” “I left a party,” said my friend, “at 12:03. I'd had enough. And then I went home and I swear to god the walls were vibrating. People were out of their minds. I couldn't hear my own TV. And you can't ask them to keep it down on New Year's.” “You can't,” I said. “So I got all my blankets and a pillow and I went down to my car. Put the seats down. Stretched out. It started raining.” “Like camping.” “Totally pleasant. I woke up completely rested at like 11. No hangover. With the rain falling around me. I mean, if I'd stayed home, I'd have been miserable. But I slept in my car. I did the weird thing and I was happy.”

“I just sat around,” I said. “It's my least favorite holiday. Did a bunch of work, actually. Mo was bartending and I didn't feel like going out. How'd you do?”

“I left a party,” said my friend, “at 12:03. I'd had enough. And then I went home and I swear to god the walls were vibrating. People were out of their minds. I couldn't hear my own TV. And you can't ask them to keep it down on New Year's.”

“You can't,” I said.

“So I got all my blankets and a pillow and I went down to my car. Put the seats down. Stretched out. It started raining.”

“Like camping.”

“Totally pleasant. I woke up completely rested at like 11. No hangover. With the rain falling around me. I mean, if I'd stayed home, I'd have been miserable. But I slept in my car. I did the weird thing and I was happy.”