Jersey Chicks' Rockin' New Year's Eve

Fuggitabout Dick Clark.  You want to see some serious rockin' out, go to Jersey.  Any part of Jersey.  I was way up at a ski resort and the same chicks you see with the leftover 80's hair, leftover 80's clothes and leftover 80's drinking binges in Trenton are the same chicks you see in Vernon. 

 

Of course, it was mostly our fault for having to ring in the New Year with Jersey chicks since we refused to pay $160 a head to hang out at the resort restaurant with tourists drinking cheap champagne and grazing the lobster buffet.  How do I know it would be cheap champagne (note the lower case "c")?  Because the Champagne I drink costs nearly that much a bottle.  And lobsters at market price would do up the balance of that charge quite quickly.  Not to mention we'd had dinner and drinks for nine at the same restaurant two nights before for under $250.

 

Anyway, back to the Jersey chicks...

 

Someone thought it would be a good idea to hang out at the local bar attached to a local restaurant (which actually made excellent food), and having no better thoughts, the rest of us agreed.  There was even a kick ass (I lie so very well) band entirely made up of guys in their 50s playing covers of Judas Priest, Led Zep and Metallica.  Mostly Judas Priest.  I think that's because drunk Jersey guys dig watching drunk Jersey chicks dancing with each other in front of a band that is amped far too loud for the room.  I might also add that Jersey chicks can't dance (pardon the blanket commentary. but I've seen a lot of Jersey chicks try to dance, and I have yet to find one that has any sense of rhythm whatsoever.  It's my theory that that's why they listen to hard rock and heavy metal.  Aside from tossing around long hair and gyrating a bit, there really isn't much in the way of dancing you can do to "Headin' Out to the Highway" and "Breaking the Law".  Especially crappy covers of those songs.)

 

We were basically bored stupid, but at that point we had less than 45 minutes until the ball dropped, so we alternated standing around screaming "WHAT???!!!" at each other and making phone calls (outside, where you could hear yourself think) and trying to be polite to the drunk Jersey chicks in the bathroom who were very friendly, but wanted to have long drawn out conversations revolving around, "Happy New Year!" "Hey!  Happy New Year to you, too!" "Yeah! Happy happy New Year!" "Yeah...have a good one!" "You too!  You have a Happy New Year!" 

 

Drunken Jersey chicks are nothing if not friendly.

 

After the ball dropped, we went back home, drank some Champagne, ate some cake emblazoned with "2006!" made some more phone calls (MIKE!!!) and dragged ourselves to bed.  But at the end of the day, the important thing was that we were with friends when we rang in the New Year and I hope you were, too.  Mazel Tov!