New Year’s Eve, 1996

It all started one snowy afternoon in Connecticut, I had just awoke, my hangover was lifting, like a newly departed soul descending into Lucifer’s domain. I made my way over to the window and looked over the snowy plethora of trees and came to the conclusion that, “damn this was going to be a cold one.” I made my way over to the pile of clothes in the middle to the room, scrimmaged through them, found my watch, and came to the realization that: it was after one o’clock, shit I was running late, just like I had done in high school, running to get to my first period class, just to make it fifteen minutes late. I grabbed some new clothes and shot straight for the bathroom and took a shower, jumped out, ran down the stairs, and started cookin’ me some food. I put four slices of cinnamon bread and two English muffins in the toaster oven, poured two glasses of orange juice and one glass of milk, cracked open three eggs and beat them up preparing them for my omelet. I threw the eggs in the pan, turned around and made some espresso, frothed the milk and made myself a latte. My omelet was just about ready to throw on the fixin’s. I opened the refrigerator grabbed both the American and cheddar cheeses, sliced up some tomatoes, cut up some ham, and threw it all on the eggs. Whoops, the toaster oven. I pushed the button down, turned back around folded the omelet in half, grabbed the toast and muffins and buttered them. I took the pan with the omelet and dumped its contents on a plate with the rest of my food and there my feast lay before me. I scuffed down all my food, yelled to my uncle to see where he was in the house, went over to him, told him I’d do the dishes tomorrow, said good-bye and ran out the door.

Just as the back door was shutting I heard a faint yell creep through the crack saying, “Have a good time but don’t get out of control.” I turned around while walking up the hill to my friends house and gave my uncle the respect he deserved, smiled at him and shook my head in agreement, knowing full heartedly that I wasn’t going to live up to that statement. I whipped out a smoke and walked up the hill to my friend Jarid’s house. Jarid was from Massachusetts and was down for the holidays to see his mother, just like I was from Colorado visiting my uncle and cousin. Now I had met Jarid the year before, when he came out for the holidays. He was only sixteen years old and he rode down from Boston all the way to New Haven on a five speed, one down/two up, 200cc Suzuki. He was my friend Alex’s next door neighbor and I was introduced to him one late night of drinking in Al’s basement watching one of my favorite movies, “Mallrats” by Kevin Smith. I guess I should explain a little further on how I got to Connecticut, my mother died in my junior year of high school and I refused to move to Connecticut to finish high school but after I was finished I moved there to go to college. My college career there only lasted a year before I got homesick and returned to Colorado despite not having any family to help support me through school. The walk up that steep little hill on my street in Connecticut, took the breath out of me every time I walked up it to go to my friend’s house but that could be do to the fact I always smoked a cigarette while walking up it. I went around to the back door of Jarid’s house and went in to wake him up. I climbed the stairs to his bedroom on the second floor of his house and found him sleeping in his bed, well on his bed with all his cloths on and sure enough his shoes too. I woke him up, then I just sat back and observed that situation, he brushed his teeth ran downstairs, grabbed some aspirin and took them, grabbed his coat and yelled to his mother to drop us off at the train station. His mother wouldn’t let him drive the new Jeep Cherokee that she got him for Christmas because she new all to well how her son was. Over that year that he was in Massachusetts he crashed his motorcycle and still had wounds on his face to show for it. So knowing all to well what the two of us were going to get up to in New York City over New Year’s Eve, she enforced us to take the train in to the city and would pick us back up when we made our famed return to Connecticut.

The train left at 1:56 we made it to the station by 1:52, rushed to get our tickets and sprinted to track number five and had two minutes to spare, so we both lit up smokes because the train was non-smoking, then hopped all aboard. After walking through five cars, we finally found two seats and sat down for our hour train ride, it was amazing we found seats because in less than a minute this car also filled up with people standing all around us. I then looked out my window at all the snow covered trees we were passing by in that 20 degree day and sang a tune to myself:

We got to New York City at 3:20 in the afternoon, we both were so hungry we went straight to a deli and ate; how I got hungry I have no idea. Then we evaluated the area (where we were and how to get back to Grand Central Station for the 2:00 a.m. train back to New Haven). We figured we’d situate ourselves and establish the area now rather then when we were drunk. Now you have to picture the two of us in the big city, drinkin’ in the bar was no problem for us but the expense was. So we then went out in search for a liquor store and after walking all the way up 42nd Street to 7th Avenue and over a block to 43rd Street we finally found one. I bought a pint of a hundred proof, blue label Smirnoff, a pint of London Dry Gin, a pint of Jose Cuervo, a pint of Jack Daniel’s, and finally a pint of Bacardi’s rum and that was just for me. I had a bottle in every pocket with my wallet in my flannels top breast pocket, so not to be pick-pocketed.

Then just as I sang on the train, as I walked back up 42nd Street to see all the freaks, we went to the Times Square Brewery. I went straight for the bar and got tonic water with two limes. I drank half my tonic water and then poured half the pint of Gin in my drink, damn was it stiff. Jarid met these girls from Portland, Maine, we partied with them for a while, and around 10:30 or so (it all got blurred after the brewery). Anyway we left and went to walk around Time Square but while doing that we bought some orange juice and poured vodka in them. Now you have to picture the scene by now all the streets were barricaded off and the streets were packed with people, you could drink on the street but no alcohol label could show. You had to put beer in a paper sack or hard liquor in one if you can handle drinking it straight all night long but we preferred to spike our drinks. Police were everywhere and if they saw you drinking and saw a label they’d arrest you but just keep it concealed and what they didn’t know they didn’t care because they already had so much on their hands. We walked up Broadway to 46th Street and met two guys and four girls from Delaware. We chose once again to engage in conversation and partied with them for about a half an hour. Then we walked down to 42nd Street right at the building where the ball drops and just picture this: a blue neon sign lit-up saying “New York Police Department” and then turning off and then in hot pink neon the NYPD would light up and alternate back and forth between the blue and pink. Oh that’s not it either, underneath this sign were 600, yes 600 cops in full riot gear, face shields and batons drawn.

After this monstrosity we went over to Beefsteak Charlies or some crazy bar with a name similar, we went in and holy shit it was jammed with people. There was no where to move once trapped in the crowd except to force your way through. I made my way up to the bar and told the bar tender I was the designated driver for the evening, he looked straight at me and said “You’re the designated driver on New Year’s Eve, that’s gotta suck. You got a lot of balls man.” Then he handed me two cokes of course for free and I went over to our corner by the juke-box and spiked them. We started playing tunes on the box; even this was impressive 1000 CDs, yeah 1000 CDs to choose from.

I walked over, well stammered over to the bar to got and get another coke for my last half of the Jack Daniel’s and that’s where I met her. I went and got my drink and on my way back through, she grabbed me and pulled me over to her table. God she was beautiful, Sarah from Vermont. I looked straight into her eyes, leaned over toward her and asked her a question as I whispered it into her ear, “Is it hot in hear or is it just you.” I said it jokingly enough to bring one of the best smiles out of her innermost soul. Jarid now had to fend for himself; I on the other hand was destined to one of the greatest nights ever in New York City. I held her in my arms all night long as we waited for the midnight hour to approach, her petite frame held close to mine. We talked all night long, her sweet voice echoing in my ears and her sweet lips kissing my cheeks. I told her it was Vermont meeting Colorado, and indeed it was. She looked at her watch and we had only a short time to make it over to 42nd Street and Broadway to watch the ball drop for New Year’s. We were on 46th Street and 7th Avenue or something like that; we were in store for an adventure in itself to see the ball drop. The police barricaded the streets off, now not just to cars but also to people; you could leave but not get back in again. We ran down the street desperately trying to get in and just faced rejection by rejection from the police who wouldn’t let us through. We walked all the way down to 59th Street to cup up to 6th Avenue finally we got in, now the crowd was so big to get in you had to make a running start just to get into the crowd, desperately hoping not to piss anyone off in their drunkenness. We made it down to 44th Street and couldn’t go any further so we ran up 44th to Broadway straight into another police barricade. We told the cop every story in the book to try to persuade him to let us through. Jarid by this time had gotten lost in the crowd back on 7th Avenue, when we were running through a fight broke out where one guy stabbed another and Jarid was on one side and I was on the other, and I guess I followed Sarah and left him behind. I found him later in Grand Central Station at 2:15 ready to go back to New Haven, don’t ask me how I found him, it was just sheer luck. A man was pissing in the potted plant in the lobby another one was puking off to the side and another was pick-pocketing some guys that had passed out on the bench, and there was Jarid standing up against the wall. I said Jarid, and he punched me, but that’s another story and shall be told in time. Meanwhile, Sarah’s friend began telling the police we were from Los Angeles and drove 48 hours straight just to get to New York City for New Year’s Eve in Time Square. What ever we said or did in my case he just wouldn’t give in. Then suddenly on the other side of the street 20 or so people bum-rushed the barricade so I grabbed Sarah and she her friends and we too bum-rushed the barricades, running and weaving past several cops and making it through safely. Sarah and I turned to look up at the clock by the ball and it said sixty seconds on it. We both turned to each other and looked into each others eyes and said, “We did it!!!” I then grabbed her by the waist and kissed her sweet tasting Vermont lips and then smiled as I looked into her eyes once again and drifted away. We looked on the clock and counted down together, “forty-five, forty-four, forty-three” and then peered into each others eyes and kissed each other until the New Year began.

I walked her back to her hotel and kissed my last goodbye, never to see her again.

I spent an hour with her before I left but I had to find Jarid remember. So I told you how I had found him. After he punched me, which I guess I deserved because I did leave him for Sarah but he understood when he punched me in the stomach. He was drunk, damn I have no idea where he went or what he did to this day, he won’t tell me, all I know is that he and I had witnessed a murder and I ran away with a girl from Vermont and he stuck around cuz he was trapped on the other side. Nuts, anyway we made it back to the train and he passed out, exhausted from the night. But me I was primed and still going. I partied like a rock star on the train there were bottles being passed around and cases of beer, people were sharing it was cool. Then I got really nuts and started bowling my bottles down the other side of the train. The seats on the train face each other and the main door is in the middle so I bowled into on-looking passengers, it was nuts. Then it was a non-smoking train, remember, but I orchestrated that if we all lit up that we all couldn’t get kicked off, so 30 of us had a smoke then, the reefer got brought out. I was a sharing communal event. Then some things got really crazy, this guy was shooting heroin up while walking down the isle of the car into the next and the next. It was crazy had his arm tied off and mainlining. Never saw that on a train before, Jarid was still sleeping. Then across the way, where the passengers where facing us was a group with a 3 foot bong and hitting it up, but they wouldn’t share they were a bunch of assholes. The conductor was cool, he liked me and I made him laugh, he was a great guy in our car. Then in Stratford we stopped and holy shit. We got raided by the SWAT there, I was so fucked up, I yelled out “You’re nothing but a lot of talk and a badge.” That was it for me I turned around just as I said that just to look eye to eye with a cop, oops, bad move. He said, “You think you’re fucking funny, get your ass of the train and you can wait till morning for the next train, and think about it.” I just looked at him, then he continued, “Get off the train or I’m going to arrest you.” I turned to Jarid and shook the shit out of him and said, “Dude we’re getting kicked off the train.” He looked at me like I was crazy and then looked at the cop. Then I said, “I’m getting kicked off the train and your coming with me.”

He finally awoke and we both got off the train. The heroin junky was outside and there were like five or so balloons of shit and the ground with the needles and those fuckers with the bong, they didn’t share so the others ratted them out, ha some funny shit. Then we ran up the side of the train and watched about 8 fights that were going on, damn some real brutal stuff. Then I turned to Jarid and said lets get back on. He just looked at me like I was nuts. I said, “No for real, let’s get back on, they’ll never know, well walk up a few cars and get on.” So that’s what we did. We hoped on were there was no activity, meaning no cops or fights and just sat down. The train began moving after about 15 minutes or so, and then I turned to Jarid and said, “Let’s go back to our car.”

We walked back into the car and right when I walked in the whole car cheered and called out my name, it was the funniest thing. Jarid just looked at me and said,” You must have been busy.” Then the conductor came over to me and said, “I didn’t want to kick you off, but you know when the badge talks.” I looked at him and shook my head. Then he continued, “I really like you, you’re a funny kid,” then he handed me a Cuban cigar and continued again, “Here, but don’t smoke it on the train, smartass.” I thanked him and laughed. Then things were a little mellow after the SWAT incident but Jarid was back and we partied till we got back to New Haven with the rest of the car. Damn it was one of the craziest nights ever. Jarid and I still just shake our heads when we see each other on the holidays. Jarid is a 50 caliber door gunner on a Hewy and a Hewy mechanic in the Marines now, me I’m just a perpetual student.

Jonathan J. Benson