"We sell out every year," says Beth M'yer, 26, the Café’s promotions manager. "We open at 9, and we can close as late as we want to, but it’s usually around 3. Usually by then everyone is so wasted we really can’t serve them anymore anyway."

"I’ve only got five people tonight," says stretch Hummer limo driver David Bowman. "Five guys. It holds 14. They have it out till 4:30, but I hope they want to go home after this. It’s just about 40 feet long. To buy one would cost around $120,000. Gas mileage? I have to hit every gas pump I go by."

A Mornin’ Patterson 5k run/walk is scheduled for this morning at 7. Only a few runners are out as a spectacular dawn sky spills over Baltimore. One anonymous female runner makes a good clip through the park, though she declines to be interviewed: "I’m sorry, I don’t have time to talk," she calls back.

Happy New Year. Can we go home now? H

The 24-hour diner is overflowing with pie-eyed and hungry revelers. (One flustered waitress is overheard saying how she had already put in to not work next New Year’s.) Eli Worth, 26, is a conductor and the self-appointed spokesman for a group of well-dressed musicians who had spent the night at the Big Night Baltimore party at M&T Bank Stadium. "2003 was a wonderful exploration of the inner soul which I hope to see come to fruition in 2004," he notes, adding, "The eggs are excellent. If you quote me, explain that I started drinking at 7."

Overflowing trash cans outnumber patrons as things wind down at the city’s ultimate mega-bar. "I’m ready to go home, have about five drinks, and go to fucking sleep," says Tony Cross, 23, a bar back. "I’ve been here since 6:30. It was a good night. Best we’ve had in a couple of months. I figure we had about 1,500 people. We had six cases of Champagne."

Ray Kazmierski, 65, and his wife, Rosanna, 62, have two children and two grandchildren. "I haven’t kissed my old lady in 41 years," Ray protests. "I’m going to be in the City Paper--a right-wing, conservative Christian? I thought you said you were with The Sun."

"This is my first New Year’s working," says Dylan, 25, a legal secretary by day and a nude dancer by night. "It’s pretty fun. I got here at 7 this evening. Most the guys coming in were single. The first thing I look for is a wedding ring. Most of the guys didn’t seem very happy.

"If I wouldn’t have been here tonight, I would have been home by myself. Isn’t that sad?"

"City Paper? Get me up in that bitch!" blurts Christopher Lee Burton, 26. "I got this coat in New York City. My mother got it for me for Christmas. It’s seal. Most people think it’s rabbit or bear, but it’s actually seal. I had this one girl go crazy on me--cussing me out for wearing this fur. I cussed her back. Everybody else has liked it. I ain’t cold. I tell you--I’m up in this bitch sweating. My friends are inside, but I had to come out here. Sweating to death in this coat."

"We’ve got a police presence here as a precaution, just to make sure things stay safe," says Lt. Mich'l Pristoop, the officer in charge. "In the Fells Point area, I’d say we have about 70 officers. On a normal weekend night we might have 12 to 15. I’m sure [the officers] would rather be home, but I haven’t heard any complaints. There is a little extra pay for working New Year’s Day . . . that will kick in at midnight."

"I like to dance a lot," says Danielle Franco, 24, a native of Venezuela who’s been in Baltimore two years. "I’m always exercising to get my body like this. I don’t drink and I don’t smoke. For New Year’s I’m looking for a boyfriend. I wish I could find a boyfriend tonight. I like shy guys . . . like you."

"I’m out here a lot besides New Year’s," says Esther Trueheart, 46, who studied flute at Morgan State University. She was collecting tips in a coffee can. "By the time the raging drunks are out here, I’ll be gone. A friend of mine is driving me to a Buddhist meeting tomorrow morning. New Year’s Day is a big holiday for Buddhists because it’s considered a time of new beginning."

Alcothons--essentially, AA meetings held back-to-back all day--are scheduled around the holidays. "Being New Year’s, I’m surprised there are not more people here," says 85-year-old Ed. "This is supposed to be an alcothon, when one person after another takes the secretaryship or chair. I don’t know if that will happen tonight. . . . This is one of the most supportive places you can come to. When I’m in Baltimore, I come here every other day. I haven’t had a drink for 34 years."

"For New Year’s I’m looking to be totally transformed," says Dwayne White, 40, who acknowledges that substance abuse has led him to be homeless off and on for two years. "I want my life to change. I’m not mad at anyone. I made these choices. I want to do something different. My youngest daughter said to me, ‘Daddy, I need you.’ So tonight I’m going to work [cleaning up at a downtown nightclub], going to stay clean and sober, and tomorrow--God willing--I’m going to get up and visit my children. I want to be a husband and a father again. I’m looking forward to it."

Robert, 59, is a Baltimore-based long- and short-haul truck driver who’s been behind the wheel for 38 years. He was off New Year’s Eve and Day. (He says many drivers--and many trucking companies--don’t want to have a rig on the road around New Year’s out of fear of sharing the road with drunk drivers.) "This job is not for a married man," he says. "The holidays make it worse. It can be a lonely time. I’ll be here at midnight. I’m not trying to bring in the New Year with a bang or anything. I probably won’t even know when it comes in. I’ll just be here. I might go back to the truck and just stay in there. Just another day."