There were a million people in the park that night and they were all walking into each other and yelling at each other periodically or at least muttering under their breaths God it was… Well it doesn’t matter I suppose it’s all in how you look at things some people I suppose were having a good time and I suppose others were having bad times and I suppose it all reflected more on the person having the time than the kind of time it actually was. I had been up for too long, in my opinion it was too long to be awake and then to go to such an event, I suppose I have a very bad understanding of energy and how much of it I need and how much of it I can pull out of the air.
We were made to park far away, although later on an acquaintance of mine would pull into the park and get offered preferred parking for no reason at all…I suppose there must have been some reason. We parked far away and we walked across the parking lot and across the road and past the ditches and across another road and the whole time we were dogged by a rolling train that they called a tram. It was full of people on the way out and empty on the way in and it rattled and the conductors passive-aggressively ran us off the pathways because didn’t we know we were supposed to take the tram and not walk the half a mile across no man’s land to the park entrance? Well no, we didn’t know, and anyway there was a mob around the boarding station of the tram that reminded me of the idea I have of the Soviet republic. God knows when you would have gotten on that tram.
And when we got there to the park it was a million degrees below zero and there were a million people all milling about and hitting each other and ramming into each other’s ankles with their strollers and I wanted them all dead and the Christmas music was nice but did it have to be so loud and tinny and yet many people managed to have a good time, I suppose because they had paid dearly for these tickets or because they were many of them simpletons or God knows maybe they were working too many hours during the week and had no time for leisure and so they thought this was fun…
My friend was wearing a jean jacket and jeans and a tshirt and expensive sneakers and nothing else and I was about to die how cold it was I couldn’t feel my feet and he just ran around buying Kahlua and hot chocolate mixed together by people who looked like they were half dead and he ran around back and forth I supppose he had an okay time, we didn’t talk about it. But I suppose it was my fault the whole thing I hope I never go back but I might I can’t say that I won’t since I always seem to find myself in these situations.