Last night I went out with Keith and his wife, Olga, to Corey’s house.  His parents were throwing a New Year’s Party so there was a fair amount of people between their friends, Corey’s friends and his sibling’s friends.  In keeping with tradition, I made sure Keith had grabbed two bags of fresh oranges before we showed up.  

First, a little context.  Puerto Ricans have some strange New Year’s traditions.  Growing up, we would always do the pot of water out the front door, but it would always freeze over in the night, making it extremely hazardous to leave the house the following morning.  One year my dad decided that this was a bullshit tradition that had no justification.  In an attempt to “one up” this act of absurdity, he went into the kitchen, grabbed an orange and chucked it out the front door.  We’ve done it every year since.  Last year I managed to get Keith to start doing it too, and damned if I wasn’t throwing my orange for 2011.

We show up to the house and I meet Corey’s parents for the first time.  His mom had a difficult time grasping the concept:

“What are the oranges for?”

“We’re gonna throw them out the front door at midnight for good luck.”

“Oh, okay.”

2 minutes later:

“Are you really going to throw the oranges?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“It’s a good luck tradition.”

“Maybe you should throw them out the back door.”

5 minutes later:

“Seriously, why the fuck did you bring so many oranges?”

“I don’t understand what you’re not understanding.”

Well when midnight came we allowed Corey the honor of the first throw, partly because he invited us, partly because I’m not familiar with his backyard and didn’t know where it was safe to chuck an orange.  Turns out half his family came out and threw oranges onto Route 72 with us.  Not to be outdone, they decided to throw something more “Italian” to reflect their background and proceeded hurling prosciutto and garlic bread. 

As it turns out, I’m the only one in my family now that has a vehicle capable of carrying more than two people comfortable (and legally).  Considering that my parents were having there friends from Florida coming up to visit and that I had plans to go out for New Year’s, we had a situation.  Either they would be stuck at home until I came back today, their friends would be forced to rent a car, or I leave them my car and I drive my mom’s vette.  The last option seemed most favorable for everyone, so that’s what ended up happening.

A week or so ago I got in touch with Keith, a good friend of mine from high school I hadn’t seen since this past summer, and he invited me over to his place in Barnegat Light, a.k.a. the northernmost town on Long Beach Island.  Mind you, this is where some of the nicest and most expensive houses in all of New Jersey are, and I hadn’t been this far up the island in a long time (I usually go to the south side, where there’s more restaurants/things to do).  Him and his wife are renting out a house, which is considerably cheaper to do in the winter, when the island is basically evacuated and quarantined.  I saw maybe three pedestrians and two other cars the whole time I was out there.

I got there and we hung out for a while, then headed back to the mainland to pick up some of his friends that couldn’t drive themselves.  I was not informed that they were going to completely stoned.  I mean, I don’t claim to know a lot about pot, but these kids were pretty bad.  Though it was interesting to meet people who laughed at a joke 5 seconds after it was told.

We played guitar and bass, a weird game called blockus, and watched the ball drop.  This was promptly followed by one of my family’s time-honored traditions of throwing oranges out the front door (I’ll explain this in a later post).  Then the other kids passed out from being so stoned so me and Keith stayed up until 3:30 watching random youtube videos and catching up.  I went to sleep in the guest bedroom downstairs and froze my ass off.  I turned on the heat and was roasting, so I had to turn it of, causing me to freeze again.  Repeat this until I passed out from exhaustion.

This morning I woke up and had one of the worst ideas I’ve ever imagined.  I then proceeded to tell everyone my idea, fully aware that it was profoundly illogical in nature, but Keith agreed to do it with me.  We were going to go swimming in the ocean.

To be continued….