Walked around my good intentions...

Hello blogosphere, it's Tom, and I've got a story fo you.

Yesterday, Friday, I had a Boston adventure. The kind you had in college. All over the map, all hours of the night.

We went out for Mo's birthday.


My day started at work. It wasn't great, and I hate Insolent Bob, but really like the rest of the guys who work there. At about two o'clock Buffalo turned to me and said "Hey, what's the difference between "do" and "do" spelled d-o, and d-u-e?"

I was like, "Um, what? One pertains to actions, one pertains to things owed. How do you not know this?"

"Well, I get them confused. Why do we even have more than one word for that? That seems stupid. Three "do's" seems like two many."

"Three do's"?

"Yeah. D-o, d-u-e, and d-o-e."

I was killing myself laughing. The rest of the homophone conversation was about how the kid who sits next to Buffalo, a native New Englander pronounces "hair" exactly the same as "here" and "hear."

For the rest of the dayI was trying desperately to kill time. I chatted online, I drew some kickass spiral designs, I even did some actual work on some reports that are "due" next Tuesday. I couldn't think of anything else to "do."

Then I got an email from Tom: "Hey, sorry this is so haphazard: We'll be going to the Tomb tonight for Mo's birthday, and meeting for dinner at eight o'clock BeerWorks beforehand."

He'd sent out a couple emails the day before outlining a similar plan sans details and the multitude of responses (that went something like "The Tomb? Um, what? And also, what time?") convinced him to re-email the invitiees.

So, as I was already online with gmail chat, I asked some people Erin if they knew anyplace I could go after work to kill some time before dinner. I wanted to read a little and hang out.

Erin suggested Trident, a "chill" cafe/bookshop on Newbury that I'd never heard of. She said they sold beer and wine. I was convinced.

So, after finally, agonizingly, five-thirty rolled around I headed over there. I grabbed an open seat at the end of the bar, took my book out American Tabloid and no sooner had I reached for the bookmark did Erin herself walk in!

"Hey. Talking this place up for you, I convinced myself to come," she said.

So, Erin and I hung out for a while drinking coffee at Trident and talking about cars, and boots, and Fraggles, and all sorts of other things. And then I glanced up and Tom and Mo are right over there at the magazine rack. Coincidence?

Turns out, no not really. They'd had the same idea I had had: Kill some time before dinner at Trident. I guess it's a pretty happening place.

So, as it was about time to meet the others at the restaurant, Erin took off, and Tom, Mo, and I walked over to Beerworks.

The following is a small paragraph about the beer at Beerworks:

It stinks. I don't know anything about their brewing process, but it works to remove any and all body from each and every one of their beers. Also, it removes a good deal of flavor. Last night I sampled the Oatmeal Stout, the Pumpkinhead Ale, the "Mad Hops" IPA, and the Bambino Ale. On previous ocassions I've tried their "Red" and "Brown Nut Ale" varieties. All have little flavor, none have any body. The only one that tastes like it's supposed to taste is the Bambino Ale: light golden colored, light-beer flavor, clean finish. But, for the rest of them, they're all a watered-down, flavored-down version of whatever they should be. If you like heavy beer, don't go to Beerworks.

Also the food was ok, but not screwing up a hamburger doesn't earn you any points back for serving sub-par beer.

Then we went to the Tomb. Its hokey, campy, childish...and we all expected it to be. Mo's initial comment was "Maybe we all should have had a few more drinks at Beerworks before coming over here..." and I agree with here. The puzzles are something you'd find in a fourth-grade level activity book and while not "dumb" definitely would have been way more fun if we were all blind-stinking-falling-down drunk.

But whatever. I joked about a curse of the tomb, but as the rest of the story may illustrate, there may very well be one:

Mo suggested we hit up a bar for another drink. It was only about eleven-thirty, and it was friday, and her birthday. The night was young.

So, we walked from the Tomb along the longest possible route that took us on both sides of the Mass Pike and Mass Ave to some dive bar that was "at capacity." So we walked down Boylston to Foggy Goggle, Pour House, Whiskey's etc. All "at capacity." We walked back up to Bukowski's which, turns out, was also at capacity.

So it's late now, with all the walking, and a few of the group decided to peel off and take the T home. We're left with Tom, Mo, me, Matt and Daisy. We decided to go bowling.

That may have been our first mistake. (Probably not, bowling is almost never a mistake.)

We called Kings, they were full. Matt suggested Towne Line bowling in Malden. No one knew if they were all-night. So we decided to hit Dorchester's all-night bowling place. That meant walking all the way back to the car (Tom and Mo had parked near the restaurant) then jumping on I-93 South.

And that was our first mistake.

So, we should have gone the Mass Ave route. Because we were on 93 for .... two hours.

This should be a fifteen minute ride into Dorchester at midnight. But they had shut down four lanes of the five lane tunnel that runs under the city (Thank you Big Dig repairs). On a Friday, early. Two Hours.

TO GO TWO EXITS

We went from Commonwealth Ave to Storrow to 93 South in thirty seconds. We went from the Fleet Center to THE FINANCIAL DISTRICT in TWO HOURS.

For those of you unfamiliar with Boston, I can WALK from the Financial district to the Fleet Center in twenty minutes. If I only use one leg, and stop for lunch along the way. I'm not kidding. TWO HOURS. IN THE CAR. IN THE TUNNEL.

We were following a white Chevy Avalance with Nevada vanity plates reading SWINE for about half the time. They had some weird dvd playing. We couldn't figure out what it was and they didn't have subtitles turned on. (Incidentally, if anybody knows SWINE and could maybe ask them what movie they were watching as they were stuck in traffic for TWO HOURS below the city of Boston, could you let me know what it was? Sweet.) I also saw a guy in a Nissan Sentra tip his head back and fall asleep for like fifteen minutes next to us. He just shifted into park and closed his eyes. And when he woke up NO ONE HAD MOVED AT ALL.

TWO HOURS. IN THE TUNNEL.

GAH.

Cursed much? Apparently.

So, once we get the financial distric and are, at least, above ground, we sit in traffice for another fifteen minutes and then the road opens up. It was amazing. (And we should have taken Mass Ave.)

So we bowled. It was nice. It was the first time I'd been bowling since... I can't even remember, maybe three years ago. It took me a while to warm up, but I got there eventually.

And then Tom drove everybody home. Man what a trooper. Luckily there weren't any cars on the road at four in the morning.

So I got home last night (this morning) at FOUR THIRTY A.M.

Which is absolutely ridiculous. But a good story nonetheless, right?

Happy Saturday.
-t


recommended download:
Our Lady Peace, 3am
Good Charlotte, My Bloody Valentine
Flogging Molly, To Youth (My Sweet Roisin Dubh)