Nation celebrates end of year with long, tedious night sobering up in taxi rank queue


Australians everywhere are looking forward to New Year’s Eve, where they will celebrate surviving months in a burning hellscape by getting dangerously pissed, briefly counting down from ten, and then spending hours waiting for a ride home. Aging partygoer Aaron Gordon, 34, is one of many with a busy night planned: “First, there’s pre-drinks at Mark’s. Once we’re hammered enough that actually getting into a club becomes an exciting challenge, we’ll head out to town. “If they haven’t all been cancelled, I imagine we’ll stumble out at some point to watch the early fireworks, before remember that fireworks are pretty goddamn boring once you’ve passed the age of ten. Then I’ll remember that it’s traditional to kiss someone on New Year’s, and try my best to pick up, but almost certainly fail. Soon, it’ll be time for the countdown, and I’ll be busy pretending have a great time while enviously watching Kyle and Jason make out with hot strangers. “With it officially 2020, everyone will realise this is now just another mediocre night out, lose their enthusiasm, and begin filtering home. But that’s where the real fun begins! Those of us who didn’t score will give up and call it a night. Mark and Larry will cop the exorbitant surge-pricing and call an Uber, but the rest of us are sensible, and will head to the taxi rank. “Over the next three and a half hours, we’ll all sober up, stewing on how we wasted another year, desperate to just sit down for a few seconds, while enjoying the sights and sounds of angry drunks, dreadful buskers, and couples screaming at each other. Assuming we aren’t all beaten, stabbed, or incinerated as the city burns to the ground, we’ll eventually get to the front. Despite living nowhere near each other, we’ll split the cab, since by this point we would top ourselves if we have to wait another fucking minute in that line. “After the excitement of our surly driver flying down the road at twice the speed limit while shouting into his phone in another language, I’ll probably arrive home a bit before dawn, pay even more than I would have in a surge-priced Uber, crawl into bed, and spend the next day and a half hoping to die. “Should be a great night. Can’t wait!”

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