Happy New Year, 1980!

447

As Hutch began to remember the events of the night before, his heart seized in a momentary panic. Was it all a dream? Had it been a drunken fantasy? Or perhaps a momentary glitch in time?

---

“Huggy, my man, bring us another round, will ya?” Hutch implored, tipsy yet agreeable.

“Don’t you think you two have had enough?” Huggy asked.

“What are ya talkin’ about, Hug, this party is just gettin’ started!” Starsky practically yelled. “You know I haven’t had a drink since……” Starsky’s expression suddenly turned to stone and his words trailed off.

“Since you’ve been on pain meds,” Hutch finished for him. “But it’s okay pal, that was all in the past. I say, ‘Good riddance to 1979 and hello 1980!’” as he put his hand on Starsky’s shoulder and smiled.

Had it really been seven months ago that his partner had almost…….that he had almost lost Starsky? Hutch thought as his smile started to fade.

Starsky noticed and put on a big grin. “Good riddance to 1979!” he concurred, as he smiled at Hutch.

Huggy brought them another round of beer, and while his two friends were busy pouring each other a glass, he quietly pilfered the keys to the Torino and pocketed them.

“Sit with us, Hug,” Starsky said, grabbing onto Huggy’s arm and awkwardly trying to force him into a chair.

“Hey, Starsky, sorry to disappoint, but I’ve got thirsty customers, so you’re just gonna have to partayyy without me for now.”

Starsky looked momentarily disappointed and then moved his chair closer to Hutch’s, until they were sitting shoulder to shoulder. Huggy looked at his two friends, who seemed more happy and carefree than he’d ever remembered seeing them before. Then he trotted over to the bar.

Time passed, as it always does, and they drank some more. “Hey, what time is it?” asked Starsky, beginning to sound more drunk now than tipsy.

“Whatta asking me for, ya big lug? You’re the one with the fancy watch.”

“Oh, yeah,” Starsky said, slumped in his chair. He looked at his watch. “It’s 11:57,” he announced.

“11:57 already!” Hutch said, his voice sounding nasal and high-pitched due to his over-excitement. “Hey, Huggy, com’ere!”

This time Huggy complied and walked towards their table. At 11:59, Huggy lifted his glass. “To my dear friends, Starsky and Hutch. Here’s health to those I love and wealth to those who love me.”

Starsky and Hutch looked at each other and giggled. “Huggy, that doesn’t even make sense!” Hutch slurred, as the patrons of the Pits suddenly began to chant.

Ten!

Nine!

Eight!

Seven!

Six!

Five!

Four!

Three!

Two!

One!

Happy New Year!

Huggy turned to shake his friends’ hands but was momentarily delayed in his endeavor when Hutch unexpectedly planted a kiss right on Starsky’s lips. To Huggy, the world suddenly halted: the sounds of the revelers became indistinct and distant and everything seemed to move in slow motion. His eyes opened wide as he wondered what Starsky’s response was going to be; afraid that Starsky would be mortified by Hutch’s gesture, surprised when Starsky didn’t pull away. Instead, Starsky’s face wore the biggest grin that Huggy had ever seen.

Then the world started up again, right on schedule, and the sounds of the revelers came back into focus. And there they were, Starsky and Hutch, arms wrapped around each other, laughing, and practically sitting in each other’s laps.

A short time later, as the bar started to empty of revelers who were headed home after an evening of festivities and merriment, Huggy informed Anita and Diane that he would be back momentarily.

His blue-eyed friends were starting to look worse for wear after all their drinking and jollity, and he noticed Starsky fiddling in his jacket pocket, evidently searching for his keys.

“Looking for these, Detective Starsky?” Huggy asked as he dangled the Torino keys in front of Starsky’s nose.

“Hey, where’d you get those? I have the same ones!” Starsky exclaimed excitedly.

“Gentlemen, please allow me to drive you both home.” He had expected some protesting, but his friends simply looked at each other, shrugged, and said “Okay” at the exact same time.

“Which one of you chumps should I drop off first?” Huggy asked as they drove down 5th Street.

“My place is closer,” said Hutch. “Why don’t you drop us both off there?”

———-

Hutch drunkenly reached over the lintel for the key and opened the door. Then he grabbed Starsky’s hand and pulled him towards the bed. Starsky, who was even drunker than Hutch, staggered over and collapsed in a heap on top of the blanket.

Hutch clumsily climbed over his partner and lay beside him, then swung his arm around Starsky’s shoulder and leaned his head against him.

They were both asleep within seconds.

———-

Many hours later, when the sun was high in the sky and they awoke to massive hangovers, they turned and looked at each other as if not understanding how they both came to be laying fully clothed on Hutch’s bed.

As Hutch began to remember the events of the night before, his heart seized in a momentary panic. Was it all a dream? Had it been a drunken fantasy? Or perhaps a momentary glitch in time?

Or maybe it was something that occurred in the nanosecond of limbo between the old year and the new, as the earth spun on its axis and Bay City, California, latitude 34.052235, longitude -118.243683, met the New Year and the new decade to come?

He had kissed Starsky at the stroke of midnight. And Starsky, instead of being affronted, instead of decking him, had kissed him back! But would he be offended now, in the clear light of day, as he began to remember? Would he even remember?

He suddenly realized that Starsky was looking at him intently, a lopsided grin slowly beginning to spread on his face.

“What’s got you so happy this morning? Don’t you have a massive headache like I do?” asked Hutch, smiling back, despite the massive pounding going on behind his skull.

“As a matter of fact, I have a motherfucking huge headache right now,” Starsky replied, still grinning.

“Then why are you smiling?” asked Hutch.

“Because I know just the cure,” said Starsky, snuggling up to Hutch and resting his head against his friend’s. Then they held each more tightly then they’d ever held each other before, as if this was their last moment on earth.

Suddenly, Hutch pulled away just a bit, and said, “Always do sober what you said you’d do drunk. That will teach you to keep your mouth shut.”

“Huh?” Starsky said, puzzled.

“It’s a quote by Ernest Hemingway,” Hutch clarified.

“What’s it supposed to mean?”

“It means this,” said Hutch, as he proceeded to kiss Starsky, sober, on the first day of 1980. And on that day, the first day of the rest of their lives, Starsky, also sober, kissed him back.