It was 7pm. Dark. Cold. And we’re snug in a cabin in snowy Goshen.
So what do Groover, The Artist (my bro) and I decide to do for New Year’s Eve? Correct!
We decide to jump in the car and drive into Times Square to watch the ball drop for the 100th time.
Just three of the million people who were there.
Except we werent.
I think we got as far as 43rd and 6th before the police barriers finally stopped us. Don’t get me wrong, it was still worth it. And our little corner was going for it as much as they could seeing as we couldn’t actually see the ball drop.
Just being in New York with a whole city full of revellers made it worth the three hour journey – both ways.