My Worst Ever New Year’s Eve By Xavier Toby

It was twelve years ago.

In the month before, I’d broken up with my second serious girlfriend.

In the week before, I’d been involved in a team kayak race that finished on NYE in Swan Hill.

At 9pm on NYE I got chatting to a girl in a pub. My teammates left. I stayed. Then the girl left. Alone.

At 8pm I’d loaned my drivers licence to a 16-year-old teammate. By 9.30pm I’d been refused entry. Everywhere.

Moments after my ex-girlfriend phoned to tell me that so far she’d pashed 17 boys, and three girls, my mobile phone ran out of battery.

I walked around looking for my teammates, and then listened to the countdown. Alone.

I spent the next seven hours walking around Swan Hill looking for the campsite.

I repeatedly found a racecourse, football oval and farming equipment dealership.

At 3.30am I started trying to open car doors, in an effort to borrow one.

At 3.43am I opened one, and couldn’t start it.

By 4.23am I’d hailed over 50 taxis. Unsuccessfully.

At 4.32am a guy started walking beside me. He told me that he had four kids, to two different women, and picked oranges 363 days a year to afford the child support, as well as food and alcohol for himself. He was very skinny, and very drunk.

At 5.13am I started walking towards oncoming traffic. All the cars drove around me. None stopped. Some tooted.

At 7.03am I found the campsite. It was next to the racecourse.

in Swan Hill, Victoria, Australia


Writer and comedian. 'Mining My Own Business' his debut non-fiction comedy book is available now through: People he's not related to even say that it's worth reading. Promise.

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Xavier's website.


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