Hear your dad’s bird-clock chirp 4 p.m. and remember that you’re 28 years old and living with your parents on the weekends. Then panic because it’s already getting dark outside and you have no plans for the night because all of your single friends have been invited to a wedding inconveniently (!) scheduled on New Year’s Eve. Find yourself feeling unpopular and still depressed after watching UL play like a third-tier grade-school basketball team.
Call your best friend who is planning on driving to Cincinnati and convince her to stay in town. Promise her a night of no-pressure, impromptu trouble-making. Kiss her through the phone when she says, “I’ll pick you up in an hour.”
Curse your wardrobe. Throw on the outfit you wore last weekend.. Curl your hair and stare into the mirror and tell yourself that no one else will notice your New Year’s Eve zit.
Ignore your mother’s “you look like a hussy” comment as you walk out the door to get carted away to an apartment in Smoketown.
Listen to WFPK’s Best of 2011 countdown over bourbon, and be surprised at how many of the songs you know. Feel particularly cultured for a second. Poorly paint your nails the color of Now You Sea Me, and leave to make your 8 p.m. Eiderdown reservations.
Feel like Jim James when you’re immediately seated and presented with a complimentary plate of pate and a scallop dish because your buddy is banging one of the cooks. Order a bottle of La Freynelle and decide to split the best burger you’ll ever wrap your fingers around.
Be very surprised when the guy you were shamelessly flirting with two nights before walks in the door. Try not to perform cartwheels when he tells you he regretted not getting your phone number.
