To the New Year’s Eve Newsstand Urinator
You added moisture to my Times Square excursion
I wasn’t chasing waterfalls, rivers, or lakes that night — and I certainly wasn’t chasing trickles of piss. And yet, there you were.
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
It was the first and only time I ventured to Times Square on New Year’s Eve, accompanying and friend and her parents to the festivities. Generally, I don’t do well with crowds, but I figured, what’s the worst that could happen?
You.
We walked an eternity. I could deal with that. It was freezing cold to the point where I couldn’t feel my fingers anymore. I could deal with that. It was so loud and crowded that I couldn’t hear myself think, let alone hear my friend. I could deal with that. After all, that was what I signed up for when I agreed to go.
After we heard you, we felt you. Or rather, trickles of you….
What I didn’t sign up for is what happened when the clock finally struck 12 and the ball dropped. Some people blew horns. Some people sang “Auld Lang Syne.” Some people kissed their partners. And amid all of the festivities and promises of a new beginning, we heard you, above our heads screaming “Happy New Year!” at the top of your…
