This night was going to rock, and then we showed up to the apartment. Rob was there, with his friend. And nobody else. They were sitting there on the couch, drunk and a little stoned, watching Terminator 2. Wasn't perhaps the best start of the evening. We sat down (30 minutes), waited for Rob to get dressed (30 minutes to put on a jacket), went to 7-11 to get Rob a hot dog (20 minutes).
We finally went to a bar - a dead bar - at about 10.30. Half an hour there, and I had enough. Rohan and I got up, said goodbye to everyone, and left. We hopped outside, and into a taxi, and headed to a bar around the corner from my apartment. One $20 cover charge later, and we were in a bar full of people (but not too many), counting in the New Year in style. One guy got angry when his girlfriend started talking to me (I can't help it if you're boyfriend's a douche, hon), but for the most part, the folks at the bar were cool; such as this guy. If Reverend Al Sharpton and Willy Wonka had a child:
A little before the countdown Rohan and I met what I have affectionately decided to call 'kiwiphiles' - people who think NZ'ers are awesome.
'You're from NZ?! Stick with me. You won't pay for a drink the whole night!'
Here are some photos from the evening. Notice the fun times (and slightly drunk friends):
We drank, we partied, we drank some more. The night ended at 3am, with me paying two strangers $20 to help carry my friend home. In the end, a memorable New Years.