At a certain age—somewhere between 16 and 28, depending on how old your soul is—you start to realize that December 31st is Amateur Night. Every single establishment and street corner outside of your own home becomes the raging, crowded, loud nightclub you've avoided over the years. Even your typically quiet local watering hole is ruined—it has temporarily transformed into that crowded Meatpacking District club, that loud bro bar in Murray Hill, that hot new hipster craft cocktail lounge in East Millennialburg with a line out the door. And they're charging a cover.
It is SantaCon, the No Pants Subway Ride, and St. Patrick's Day wrapped into one awful, never-ending night. You will spend more money, have less fun, wait on line for the bathroom longer, wait on line for drinks longer, and go home with a sad angry-drunk buzz, a bit more disgust for humankind, and random flecks of glitter stuck to your body. You will be promised magic, but will only accumulate regret.
Just. Stay. Home. As John Oliver suggests in the below video, there are five Die Hard movies that will help you go gently into the good night. He also expands upon why this is the worst holiday ever.
"New Year's Eve is like the death of a pet, you know it's going to happen but somehow you're never really prepared for how truly awful it is. New Year's Eve is the worst. It combines three of the least pleasant things known to mankind: forced interaction with strangers, being drunk cold and tired, and having to stare at Ryan Seacrest for five solid minutes, waiting for him to tell you what the time is."