As with any holiday that encourages cocaine and excessive alcohol consumption, New Year's Even tends to end in utter chaos: You fuck someone you shouldn't, or you get punched by someone you're fucking. Unless of course, it's the opposite, and you enter the night planning to have wild sex but spend the night sad and lonely at the bar while confetti rains down on those around you. From sad tales of being ditched by crushes, to gin-induced violence, to the horrors of Y2K panic as a child, we rounded up people's worst New Year's Eve stories.
My First New Year's in New York
It was the end of the 2000's, and I had just moved to New York. I was relatively new to drinking large quantities of alcohol in public. My then on-again/off-again girlfriend, though, was a goddamn expert. After having never experienced a decent New Year's Eve, I accompanied her to a small, rock-n-roll dive bar in Greenpoint to see her friend's band. She was basically doused in gin. I had a shot of whiskey for the first time ever at her insistence. It tasted foul. Her friend's band, some wannabe version of the Strokes, sucked. I was tired. It was almost midnight. I wanted to go home. As was our usual, a screaming, hissing fight ensued because of how "lame" and "old man" I was. Hovering at 30 years old, I took that as the ultimate insult, so I hailed a cab. As soon as she realized I was serious, she decked me and went back inside the bar. I woke up the next morning to a voicemail asking if I still wanted to meet her parents.
Read more: Why We're Still So Obsessed with Virginity
The Time I Was Dumb Enough to Trust a Guy with a Girlfriend
I once spent all night hanging out and flirting with my crush, thinking he'd go home with me instead of his on-again/off-again girlfriend. She showed up at the party at 5 AM, right after I told him I would give us both a ride back to Brooklyn. Since I was drunker than him, I gave him the keys to drive. Of course, he invited his girlfriend to come along, and we didn't even get halfway home before he rear-ended someone in the blizzard that had just begun. While I was outside pleading with the other driver not to call the cops, I turned around to see my crush making out with his girlfriend in my car. I eventually dropped them off for a day of snuggling indoors, and then I took my crunched-up car home, alone.
When I Thought Y2K Happened
New Year's 2000 was the first New Year's Eve my parents took me out and one of my first memories of staying up past midnight. I was 12 years old. The parents were partying, and all the kids were in the throes of a dope dance party that included the Backstreet Boys. I was sober but high on adrenaline. Like my adult self, I was a rather anxious child, and despite my outward dance moves, I was convinced the world was going to blow up when the clock struck midnight. Right at the end of the "3, 2, 1, HAPPY NEW YEAR," all the lights and music went off, and the grownups started chanting, "Y2K! Y2K!" In retrospect, they were probably all in on the joke, but for me, along with getting to stay up past midnight, New Year's 2000 will always be remembered as the night I experienced my very first panic attack.
The Year My Boyfriend Ghosted Me and Someone Mugged Me
It was New Year's Eve 2001. I had made plans with a guy I was seeing but when December 31 swung around, he said he was "too sick to go out." I went to the party we were planning to go to solo and ended up having a great time. I went to check on him in the early morning, but he didn't answer the door. Nobody appeared to be home. As I was walking back to my car, a crackhead tried to mug me. Some homeboys came around the corner and chased after him while I ran away. I later found out that the dude I was dating went to a different party with some girl and ended up sleeping at her house.
A Firework Dropped on My Head
In Berlin, New Year's Eve is a celebration where everyone throws fireworks like snowballs. A few years back, I was walking to a friend's house party around 8 PM as I drank a bottle of gin. My health insurance ran out when the clock struck midnight, and my new coverage went into effect on January 2. I decided that if I was to get hit by a bottle rocket, I wanted to be drunk enough to avoid having an anxiety attack about the cost of my hospital bill. When a girl dropped a firecracker off a balcony at me and yelled, "YOUR TURN" in German, I started drinking faster. I can't remember anything after the first fireworks went off at midnight. I woke up disappointed around 4 AM in my roommate's bed, fully-clothed and with two beers in the fridge that I had no recollection of picking up.
My Night with a French Guy
The guy I had been seeing for months told me he wanted to spend New Year's Eve with someone else. We got drinks that night, and then he was like, "Bye, I have to go see this other girl." I told my roommate what happened, and she took me out, but everywhere was bad. We ended up at the restaurant she worked at, and we drank so much champagne that we forgot to pay our tab or even tip the bartender. I made out with a random French guy. My roommate and I got pizza and then forgot it on top of a car. We couldn't hail a cab, so we took the train home. I proceeded to barf as soon as we got off the train. Two days later, I was diagnosed with pneumonia. Thanks, French guy!