New Year’s Eve

The city was alive New Year's Eve, with lots of hot boys all heading somewhere. Chatty, sexy, full of bravado.

Sexy wog boys in tight jeans. The tram was seemingly full of them, with their girlfriends and in packs. Everybody was happy, laughing, smiling, eager for some fun. You could feel it, there was a definite vibe.

The girls were hot, they looked the part, hanging onto their men.

Daniel and I caught a tram to Victoria Harbour, and we didn't have to pay, New Yeart’s Eve, everybody was free to travel. We headed down La Trobe Street to a boat belonging to a friend of Daniel's. Some surgeon.

The boat was a big cruiser. Moored amongst all the other big cruisers. They formed a boat deck all the way up one side of Victor Harbour. The people who live on the sea. The food was laid out, as was the booze.

“Hello.”

“Oh hello.

“Come in.”

“Pleased to meet you.”

“Make yourself at home”

“Eat drink.”

There were security guards who only allowed the guests into the mariner.

The fireworks were fantastic. They seemed never ending at one point, exploding all around us. The night sky lit up right above us.

There were people everywhere.

I drank champagne, and I'm not paying today, amazingly. Champagne, I mean it's a girl's drink. Beer is the gay drink. But the champagne was being offered around freely, it being new year and all, so I just kept taking glasses when offered.

Daniel and I scampered down to the very end of the jetty to blow a spliff.

Still happy, laughing, smiling.

Happy New Year.

We walked home to Carlton afterwards, late. We staggered in our door, staggering off drunk to bed, almost immediately.

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