Floggin’ Brews is an interesting bar (he said, humbly), but in an interesting way.

One of the traditionally busiest nights of the year for a bar is New Year’s Eve. People are getting drunk, having a good time, throwing confetti and balloons, spilling beer on each other, and generally having a great time with friends.

Not Floggin’ Brews.

Many of my regular customers don’t feel the need to celebrate like that. They may be getting drunk, but it is usually with three or four of their closest friends, watching the ball drop in a homey environment. Or they’re in a dungeon somewhere, flogging and whipping and enjoying the hell out of life.

As much as we love each other, we acknowledge our personal lives as well, and that is what most of them do on NYE.

It’s just Boss and me tonight, and you know? That’s okay. I have some of my favorite tracks playing. Jean Michel Jarre’s “Waiting for Cousteau” runs through its lovely watery ambience, I sip on a glass of B. Nektar’s Zombies Take Manhattan, and Boss daintily bathes under Her Christmas tree.

It’s been a good year. I got Floggin’ Brews open, I gathered a nice group of kink community folk who call it home, I have a couple of good employees, and I find that I really enjoy the role of host. I have partners that I love and lust after, and I am still walkin’ and talkin’.

And I have the St. Nicholas Seal of Approval on running the place.

Shen was my last customer tonight (last night). He and I played a round of Go, which he won (as usual), but if one must lose a game he is a good person to lose to. He left quietly about an hour ago.

And right on cue, it begins to snow.

It’s late, and it’s quiet, and it’s good.