So before I begin my tale of a trip to Boston this weeks update starts here in New York. You see to get to Boston one has to take a bus from Port Authority Bus Station. Today readers I am going to explain to you why Port Authority is the most depressing place on earth.
When you step in it's like a time warp, cold, dreary and every conceivable shade of grey used to decorate the place. Now I thought the staff at Duane Reade had apathy for their jobs, Jesus himself would weep at the lazy approach taken to work here. Nobody seems happy, happy to be leaving New York, happy to be journeying somewhere new, nobody is happy, passengers, workers, fuck even the vending machines are depressed. The less said about the toilets the better really. However the piece de resistance of Port Authority is the music. Classical music is blared out at all hours of the day, yet this isn't good classical music, this is the worst music you have ever heard, it's akin to the Jones Brothers covering Stairway to Heaven whilst flaunting their promise rings in adoring teenagers faces, in fact it's worse than that, it's depressing morbid music that makes you want to slit your wrists.
People if you ever need to get anywhere from New York I beg you, for your own sanity, take the train from Penn Station, they have a Krispy Kreme there.
So onto Boston to see Jeff.
Jeff picked me up from the station in a pretty sweet car, I recognized it but didn't remember Jeff driving it from my last visit... Turns out it was Howie's car and he had lent it to Jeff for the weekend. After Jeff had visited the dentist amd performed other errands for the day we drove into Allston where Jeff had just moved to. Jeff was new to these parts but assured me he had THE perfect parking spot. We parked up and went on our merry way for an evening of fun.
The next morning we went to the magical spot to pick up Howie's car only to discover.... it wasn't there. Oh...my...God.
We had contrived to lose the car, shit. After some research we ascertained that it had been towed to pretty much the other side of town. So we hopped in a cab with a Nigerian driver who wanted to talk about how blue and white balloons remind him of Israel. After some negotiating with the white trash woman at the pound we finally had the car back. That afternoon we dropped it back at Howie's for the rest of the weekend.
That night it was time to party.... kinda. Jeff's sister Danielle was heading off to a college party and we decided to go along. After a monumental journey getting there where we doubled back on ourselves many times and ended up essentially back to where we had started the evening we arrived. The party was... well it wasn't the coolest and after about 5 minutes Jeff and I were very aware of our age. We decided to drink to feel more comfortable. This did not improve the party which peaked when a stout Indian girl emerged from a bedroom after a threesome and gave Jeff the 'come to bed eyes.' He weighed up his options however stouty was to go home alone that night. Some girl calld Jen told me she liked me, I told her I hadn't met her before, and then it was away and off into the night.
As usual I had a great time in Boston and a trip to the Lubin household for a helping of food was very appreciated.
L.N.D (let's name drop)
Jim and Barker - Every time I see a pundit exclaim that the Britannia stadium is a tough place to visit and the locals really get behind their team I imagine you two (Barker with a black eye) orchestrating the masses into a violent frenzy.
Rebecca Gilmore - You would have loved the constant Arad discussions over the weekend, how young we were!
Adam Zecharia - Could Effy be anymore wife worthy?
Miss you as always
Rob
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