Photos in this post may not necessarily relate to words in this post. Sorry.
It’s been something over 15 years since I’ve been to Boston. Long enough that I don’t really remember anything except being jealous that some classmates on the school field trip bought those throw poppers and wouldn’t give me any. Some things just remain important.
Laura has a friend living there and I tagged along for a quick weekend visit. I’m not going to try to say anything supremely meaningful about Boston that hasn’t been said before, and all two of my readers have seen my previous Boston posts, so I’ll try not to bore you here.
Our host has a sweet apartment right down the street from the Commons and Public Garden, so a decent amount of our time was spent walking around there. Saturday night was spent in Brookline, at the Booksmith and watching 127 Hours at the Coolidge. Sunday our host wasn’t feeling well, so Laura and I walked Boston a bit on our own. Details of that in previous posts.
Laura’s friend is a riot. I was warned; when Laura turned around and castigated the woman behind us narrating the entirety of the latest Harry Potter, she said that’s what her friend would have done, but twelveteen times worse. And I got a peek as we were getting on the T to go to Brookline. As the train approached, we were lined up with the normal amount of space between us and the edge of the platform, so that people could get off before we get on. If you don’t know (and if you don’t you’ve led a privileged life), this is normal public transit etiquette. And from the corner or my eye, I saw it, a shape, and then — oh no, no you didn’t. Some woman tried to cut in front of all of us, just as the train was coming to a stop. Our host preemptively stepped up further to cut her off, and then when people were getting off, she stepped back to give them that etiquette room, bumping into the interloper. Our host apologized, if tersely, and we proceeded to get on… but this woman still tried to bump in front. Well, that was it. Expletives. Hands waving. We sat down, the other woman started arguing, asking if she should call security. “And tell them what? Get out of my face.” Like a true professional. I was impressed. Welcome to Boston!
Bostonians seem to be gruffly polite. When we first rolled into town and found the T station, Laura called our host to help figure out the whole ticket vs. card deal. While that went on, a woman adding money to her card who obviously overheard us handed us a blank card, no words, no smile, just a nice gesture in and of itself. That’s kind of refreshing. There are dicks, of course; while we were lost Laura put on the puppy dog eyes and tried to ask some suited business guy for help but he didn’t even respond to an “excuse me”. Then again, when has a white dude in a suit ever done anything good? Overall, people were friendlier than they had any right to be given the setting, so it sort of reminded me of New York City, which I’m sure anyone from Boston would hate to hear.
Oh, also here is a picture of a couple kissing:
It was a great trip, and you can see the whole slideshow of 48 photos if you’re a masochist. There are also a bunch of added photos from the New England Aquarium and that Jingle Bell Dog Walk we ran across. See you next time, Boston.