Technically this is the end of the nightmare holiday season.
The week between Christmas and New Years, slow lunches, busy dinners, NY Eve marks the return to business as usual.
The night, normal, busy, but not so, no great dramas or scenes in the kitchen, a late but otherwise peaceful night.
I'm hungover - again - the waiter's New Years having been celebrated the evening before, days off are too rare to be squandered with a bag of ice pressed to one's forehead, I'm hungover and not so well, but this job, well, let's be truthful, I do it better hungover. I'm pleasanter, more tolerant of the customers, I'm just focused on survival.
And it's New Year Eve.
By 10:30 all our tables have left, less a couple - 2, and there's a brief flash of hope that perhaps we'll all be free by midnight to go and celebrate elsewhere - anywhere else.
It's only a hope, and brief, those tables, they're settled in.
The staff, they sit on the chairs around the bar, pull out their cellphones and text their friends. The tables hang on. Staff start to drink, me, I'm not drinking tonight, not again, but it doesn't matter. Everyone is in good spirits. The customers, they toast with the waiters and their cheap champagne the New Year. The waiters, the kitchen, we all hug and wish each other the best. For a moment, sober as I am, I almost believe it.
The customers eventually leave, I find cabs for the remainder, the New Years, proper, is now ours, and we all find our separate destinations. It's 1:00 AM, 2012.