The Case Of The Missing (New) Year.

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Dear *****,


It has come to my attention that I may have 'forgotten' to celebrate the New Year this year.


As you are no doubt aware, this was a deliberate ploy, carefully planned and executed - any attempt to bluff otherwise would be a waste of my time and yours.


I'm sorry if I said I was coming round to your house.


I lied.


I never had any intention of doing so.


In truth, as predicted by yourself last year, I treated the build up and countdown to the famous clock strike with the same irreverence as any other regular Friday night, and therefore managed to get through the whole stupid occasion without a single back slap, idiotic prance, tequila swig, drunken hug, overly firm handshake, boring observation, pointless conversation or mistimed high-five.


Never has being a loser felt so much like being a winner.


I have never enjoyed the New Year festivities. I believe this is now common knowledge. Despite making this opinion clear over the last 10 years or so, I continue to be invited places to thrust my negativity and scorn upon those unable or unwilling to accept my stance.


It is better for everyone concerned for me to remove myself from such places.


Or in this case, not turn up in the first place.


I'm sorry I did not return your phone calls, but having the police knock on my door at 5am was an unwelcome and unnecessary surprise, as was the expensive family-sized Indian takeaway that I had to usher away. I assume that you were also responsible for the flurry of text alerts and email spam I received from the likes of Mecca Bingo, Barclaycard, Land of Leather and Vodafone.


I will forgive you these mischievous misdemeanors, as I probably deserve each and every one of them.


In my failure to tow the line I have distanced myself from regular humans, and must therefore be punished appropriately.


...But be warned, any more nonsense and I'll tell everyone what really happened to your upper lip on that trip to Belgium.




Very best,


Pitkin

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