Why New Year's Eve In Times Square Is A Bathroom Nightmare

Here's a fun idea: You leave the comfort of your warm and cozy home to stand outside in freezing temperatures packed shoulder-to-shoulder with loud, annoying, and overhyped strangers for hours with no food or drinks other than what you bring, and the strangers are also possibly losing their bowels into adult diapers right next to you. While cheering at a giant crystal ball that's sliding down a pole, we might add. And if you leave you can't go back. Also, if you want a good spot you've got to stand there for eight hours, starting at 3 p.m. — with your adult diaper strapped on. And you probably can't leave until 2 a.m. — with your adult diaper full up. Yay.

But somehow, someway, despite such ghastly horrors, Balldrop says that about 1 million people every year subject themselves to such torments in Times Square, New York City, on New Year's Eve – though a professor of crowd science told Long Island Business News that's a massive exaggeration — Perhaps they imagine it'll be only slightly worse than queuing up for a toilet at a summer music festival, minus the toilet. Perhaps they envision wondrous memories to last a lifetime, narrated by Ryan Seacrest. What they'll get is sick for the holidays, abject misery, and a diarrhea butt.

Believe it or not, none of the above is an exaggeration. If you're planning on heading to Times Square to watch the ball drop on New Year's Eve, think again: there are no toilets. No, you can't leave. Yes, it's freezing. And yes, some folks resort to wearing adult diapers. Happy New Year!

"All those people yelling and celebrating the ball drop ... They're wearing soaked diapers! That cute girl ... Peed herself! Handsome guy ... Peed in a crowd! Everyone you see on TV who have been there since before noon ... need a change of diapers." That personal testimony comes from Rob Daugherty on Wander Wisdom, who describes holding his pee for 10 hours straight on New Year's Eve in Times Square. To help with the venture he "drank almost zero liquids all morning and did not have breakfast." He also ate a lot of salt at lunch "in order to retain water," a move which — sorry, Rob — actually increases urine production, as the BBC reports.

Daugherty's article and its testimonial are just one example of what the New York Post describes as the "urine-soaked hell" of New Year's Eve in Times Square. While we can't say whether or not the streets of Manhattan from 42nd to 47th and Broadway to 7th are literally flowing with urine, we can assume that quite a few jeans are. After all, as the Law Offices of James Shalley cite, it's illegal in New York City to "throw or put any blood, swill, brine, offensive animal matter, noxious liquid, dead animals, offal, putrid or stinking vegetable or animal matter or other filthy matter of any kind ... into any street," and carries a fine of $145.01, specifically. Not that that couldn't happen right next to you on New Year's Eve, anyway.

Different people feel very differently about the whole Times Square at New Year's Eve thing. The writer of a Timeout article merely stated, "This writer has done it once and once was enough." That writer said about 58,000 people typically show up, and she confirms the diaper story, the lack of bathrooms, the difficulty staying hydrated, the lockdown of streets to traffic starting from 3 p.m., and the start of festivities at 6 p.m., 

By contrast, another attendee in the New York Post glowingly proclaimed, "It's a huge free concert! If you get a good spot, you don't notice the cold and how long you are waiting." Another person completely disagreed, saying that attendees were "herded like cattle," and, "It was absolutely freezing I couldn't believe how many people brought babies and small children." But hey, babies wear diapers, right? No problem. And you can give "youth briefs" to your completely happy kid, as CWI Medical says. What could go wrong? And plus, the whole event is free. And oh yeah: The police don't let you sit down, per the New York Post. 

While some people might welcome such torture, others could try and book a hotel nearby that overlooks the proceedings, as the New York Post suggests. Or you know, you could fall asleep on the couch at 10 p.m., wake up for a minute at midnight, say "Yaaaaay" when the ball drops on TV, give a kiss to your significant other, and then plod off to your warm and happy bed.