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It was so cold. 19 degrees Fahrenheit on my weather app, with a “feels like” temperature of 10 with the wind chill. Still, all around, the milling throng assembled in the streets around Times Square. It was December 31st, New Year’s Eve.
The crowds would be crazy tonight. Yet after a long day at work which lasted much longer than it should have, I was not in the mood for celebrating. I just wanted to go home.
Exhausted, I looked all around at the festive crowds. Everyone was already wearing glittering paper hats and carrying noisemakers and wearing sequined clothing. Yet here I was, in my plain long black winter coat, just wanting rest. The holiday season always took so much out of me, and especially this year. Gazing from a distance at the smiling faces, people here to party who were oblivious to the reality of those who worked to make their festivities possible. In another time, that would’ve been me. I sighed as I remembered my blissful college days, when I was one of those celebrating, walking the streets on New Year’s Eve with my friends, wearing our glittery festive tops and skirts and boots. I smiled remembering my own party clothes of the late 90’s, all black. With maybe some silver sequins here or there, but all black always suited me. Even at my most festive, the shadows were where I felt at home. Deep in my memories, I could almost feel the velvet wrap top with its black sequined waist ties, the sheer, crisp vintage black crinoline with its flouncy satin bows, sleek black tights and chunky black boots of New Years past around my body, until I was awakened from my reverie by a honking cab horn whizzing by.
“Hey lady, watch it!” the driver yelled, already on his way. I did a double take as I noticed the fact that it was an old school yellow cab. We still have them, but they are far less common now since it’s much easier to just use an app. But what made me stare after the car was the fact that apparently, the driver was wearing a costume and a mask which looked exactly like an orc from The Lord of the Rings. I shrugged, knowing by now that people dressed in all manner of things on New Year’s Eve, and moved on.
The streets became ever more crowded, and getting harder and harder to get through anywhere. Having walked aimlessly, I wound up about a block away from Rockefeller Center. For a brief moment, I was filled with nostalgia for the first time I had seen that tree. I smiled a little at the memory. The holiday season had gone by in a whirl, having gone way too fast and filled up with work to even really stop and enjoy it. I exhaled, sniffing a few unshed nostalgic tears from my eyes. I had always loved this time of year. I shook my head, walking on. How had I, just this year, become so world-weary? But the mood of the crowd was infectious. There was a feeling in the air of having possibilities, the feeling as if anything was possible.
I kept walking up 6th Avenue, on toward 7th, until I could see the great glittering ball on the top of One Times Square. I stood looking up at it for a long time, almost lost in my own world. I was nowhere near home yet, and it was now after 10pm. I felt a bit underdressed walking through even more festive crowds of people wearing their glittering party clothes, feeling a bit like a shadow unseen in my plain black coat. Life had become all work and no play. When did I become Cinderella?
Having been almost run over by a cab reminded me that I should probably get one myself, if for no other reason than to get off these streets sooner. They were almost impassable in places. I stood for a moment and grabbed a hot tea while I decided what to do, standing in the corner of a doorway. I took out my phone for a moment, deciding to check my messages and open the app that would get me home and away from these crowds in a blink.
You have got to be kidding me, I thought to myself. Sighing in disgust, I restarted the phone. No reception, really?! Not now. I saw my breath and felt the ache of the cold in every bone. Thank goodness for the tea. Now will this thing behave? I looked at my restarted phone screen. It was working just fine, but, still… no reception. I rolled my eyes hard. I would need to do this the old fashioned way.
I stepped up to the sidewalk, looking for one of those old school yellow cabs. Too many cars were at a standstill, or couldn’t get through. I was just about trampled by the glittering throng a hundred times. I ducked back into my doorway for my own safety, finishing the tea, before coming out to the sidewalk again.
The temperature had dropped. It was now 15f “feels like” 9. These people are crazy, I thought to myself as they walked by wearing things that could in no way keep a person warm. I just wanted to get across town to my apartment, crank up the heat, and hide under the blankets until morning.
I looked at my phone again. 11:18pm. It was almost the New Year. As if wandering through a haze, I once again observed the crowds assembling in Times Square. How did I end up here? I asked myself. This was nowhere to be on New Year’s Eve if you enjoyed solitude. But the festive atmosphere around me kept beckoning with its nostalgic energy, reminding me to enjoy this last little bit of a mostly missed holiday season.
I breathed in a lungful of crisp cold winter air as I gazed down 7th Avenue to my left. And lo and behold, I could see it. A few blocks away and headed toward me was an old school yellow cab. It was the most welcome sight. I frantically started waving, even long before the driver could see me.
Finally the yellow cab stopped in front of me. I pulled the door open and let myself in all too quickly, settling into the back seat of my means of escape. The driver spoke to me in a soft yet gravelly voice.
“Where to?” he asked. The voice felt oddly familiar. Did I know this person? Or had I heard it before in a dream?
I gave him the address, and he began to drive. I looked around at the cab. It was definitely one of the older ones. And then I got a better look at the driver.
I could see from the back of his head that he had dark, black hair, straight yet with a slight bend, and long, hanging over his shoulders. His profile was thin, yet beautiful, I could admit to myself. Then as the lights from a large bus went by on the other side, for a moment I could see his reflection in the rearview. His eyes were almond shaped, with long dark eyelashes, and were the most beautiful shade of warm clear blue, like a sunny day on the Hudson. And he was pale, very pale, creating a striking contrast with his black hair. I’m apparently not the only one stuck in the 90’s, I thought to myself, thinking that he had a certain look about him that reminded me of some members of my favorite bands from days long past. He had high cheekbones, and… Why was I checking out the cab driver? He was somehow familiar, yet I couldn’t place him. And it would bother me until I figured it out. But beyond that, he was just really handsome, despite looking as if he had been in a few fights, and I could stare at him all night.
As I was lost in my thoughts, I realized that we had come down 38th Street and were following signs heading toward the Queens-Midtown Tunnel. I knew where he was headed, where the foot tunnels were. And oddly, I had seen the driver dressed like an orc head this way too.
“I think we’re going in the opposite direction”, I politely mentioned. My neighborhood was the other way. But he didn’t seem to be listening.
Looking around now I could see we were still in the thick of the New Year’s celebrating. I looked at my phone, which still had no reception but was at least keeping the time.
11:46.
The driver turned the cab around and circled the area, going in and out of the festivities. The music, dancing, and hollering of the crowds for blocks around was slowing things down. We were stopped at another red light.
“Sir”, I ventured again, a little bit louder this time. “You’re supposed to be taking me home”.
He turned around, looking at me, and I could see his face fully for the first time. I was stunned to my core as we made eye contact, because it felt as if the world stopped turning and time stood still. I don’t know how I knew it, but I knew, suddenly, within me why he felt so familiar. This man was my soulmate.
“I am taking you home”, he said quietly, in that soft yet raspy tone that I admitted to myself was just beautiful, the most beautiful sound that I had ever heard.
As soon as the light turned green, he stepped on the gas. The cab whirled back onto its course toward the tunnel. Outside I saw more of these people who were dressed like orcs, just like the first driver I saw. There must be a themed party somewhere, I thought, but then chided myself for thinking something so mundane. Here I was, on New Year’s Eve, at almost the stroke of midnight, riding around town with a person who seemed like he fell from straight out of my dreams, and here I was thinking of how to rationalize it all and make it all make sense. It doesn’t, I told myself at last. And that is just fine. And letting go of that which was supposed to be all serious and rational was like letting go of the very weight of the world.
The driver took a quick turn, stopping the car near a vacant corner. There were more people dressed as orcs coming and going toward the direction of the tunnels. The driver acknowledged them with a nod, and some of them bowed back slightly before continuing on their trajectories. He then looked at me again, as by this time I had exited the car and was standing next to him outside.
The crowds could be heard in the distance, the sounds of celebration still carried on the cold wind, the same wind that wafted through his long dark hair.
I glanced at my phone again, looking at the time.
11:57.
“It’s almost midnight”, he said, in that raspy yet silky whisper that I had grown to love in the space between the seconds.
“Yes”, I replied, feeling a bit as if I were suspended in midair.
“We can see the ball drop right from here”, he said.
“That would be nice”, I replied. I was done with wondering. I smiled slightly up at him. I felt in my heart that I was ready for whatever adventure this night, and this new year, had planned for me. I ventured a question. “But what shall I call you?”
“Adar”, he replied, in that silky voice.
“It’s very good to meet you, Adar”.
11:58.
“You do keep the custom of a kiss at midnight, do you not?” he then asked.
I was a bit startled, but what else may I expect from a sudden encounter with my soulmate on New Year’s Eve?
“Why, yes…”
The ball at the top of One Times Square was flickering with lights, and the sound of the distant crowd was growing to a crescendo. Finally you could hear the voices carried on the clear night air.
“Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven! Six! Five!....”
And in the next few moments, I knew that my life would never be the same again.
He grabbed me and, gently pulling me close, just as the ball was dropping. I could only see it drop out of the corner of my eye before the sounds and cheers of the crowds erupted.
“Happy New Year!!!”
And in that moment, his lips met mine.
The crowds cheered as the familiar refrain of Auld Lang Syne was carried on the air. And I gave in to this kiss, the sweetest kiss ever, and we didn’t let go. It was like falling into a dream. And as we kissed, the sounds of the crowds, and the music, and the chimes of St. Patrick’s Cathedral, and the fireworks, well… they all began to fade and drift away.
And by the twelfth chime of midnight, I opened my eyes. I was still holding Adar, and looking into his beautiful and dreamy eyes. And yet, the world around us had changed.
No longer were we standing in the middle of a city street. No longer were there cars, or crowds, or skyscrapers, or any of the trappings of the modern world. I was somewhere else.
Adar held both my hands. I looked around at a different set of tunnels. The people dressed as orcs were there too, but they weren’t wearing costumes. He looked into my eyes once again, bringing my right hand to his lips to kiss it.
“I told you I was bringing you home”.
I smiled up at him, and embraced him, happily. He kissed me again, and I just knew that it all felt right. I did feel like I was finally home.