The Wonderful Life

One of my favorite things about the holidays is their ability to bring my friends together. Some of my favorite holidays include Dranksgiving, Foxfields, and of course, New Years. When these holidays arrive, I have to constantly tell myself that it’s a marathon and not a sprint, as the day passes in a complete blur. Often I am unable to recall the specifics of any one conversation, but my memory records the day as one terribly blissful day in the life. I envision I’m much like George Bailey in his famous run home at the end of It’s a Wonderful Life. This New Year was no different, although telling tales is probably NSFW.

Interestingly enough, I received an invitation from my dear friend Katie for a night out at Sign of the Whale, one of our favorite DC bars, scheduled for the evening of January 1^st. Sign of the Whale is not the type of bar you would usually go to on a date with sobriety. It has the perfect location, a five block walk from the metro, and neighbors with DC’s finest, Camelot (voted as Readers’ Choice “Best Strip Club” by Washington City Paper). So my presentiments had me questioning Katie's date selection and whether I could manage a night out following such a large holiday.

In good form, fifty of my favorite twenty-somethings turned out for a sober night of dancing, each of us showing up only out of fear of missing out, nobody setting high expectations. But my presage was quickly abated as we weren’t so fancy and just got dancey. Over the course of the evening, we evacuated the dance floor; we danced an Irish jig, danced the cupid shuffle, danced the dougie, and just danced. It ended up being a great night for everyone. Well, I guess everyone except the bartenders, who worked extra diligently to keep our glasses filled with ice water and coca-cola. It really is a wonderful life.