Cinderella (nee Amy) doesn't often get to go out on New Years Eve, following the birth of two children and the fact her husband works shifts which require him to work unsocialable hours. But this year, New Years celebrations were promised to include a trip to a local pub where the mother of one of her pupils was singing with her band. So on the return of husband at the stroke of 10.30pm Cinderella and her not-so-ugly sisters (one real, one honorary) jumped into the Fiat Punto and hit the bridge on the way to Cupar. Despite rolling over an already dead fox in the road and it being pitch dark they made it to the Imperial in 30 minutes only to be stopped at the door by a bouncer brought in from Dundee (stricter if he doesn't know the regulars - no bribery problems) who wouldn't let anyone pass without a ticket. Cinderella made a mental note that the janni (janitor at school told Cinderella about the gig, being as it was his local) owed her big time since she had expressly asked him if tickets would be necessary and he had said no.
Standing forlornly on the side of the road in Cupar, the three put heads together and came up with an alternative plan - to watch the fireworks in Dundee City Centre (and possibly bump into Cinderella's friend Asha who had been talking about attending). Jumping back in the Fiat Punto bombing back along the dark roads and across the bridge, throwing the car into the nearest parking place, the three set off towards the funfair and the town square. On getting nearer Cinderella was confused as to why nobody was congregating yet - since there was little over 20 minutes to go before the countdown. The only people in the town square were 5 policemen, who upon being asked said there were no fireworks.
Now Cinderella was feeling a little bit desperate as the time ticked gradually closer. But by luck the doors of the Social were open and the bouncer allowed the three to pass through. Inside, the bar was 5 minutes from closing for the countdown but Cinderella and her sisters managed to buy a drink just in time. As the first sips passed their lips the countdown began. 6..5..4..3..2..1.... and it was 2006.
Cinderella, always hard to tear from a party, danced until 1.00 with her sisters, ignoring the drunken revellry, going on around her. Strange mating rituals were taking place - men in casual clothes danced drunkenly whilst girls in pencil skirts and 6 inch heels looked on with distain written on their 50s-esque red pouts.
Then after just enough, the three walked home leaving the trusty Fiat to be collected in the morning.
Happy New Year!