Thursday March 24th, 2011 00:17 Boston (The Missing Chapter)

Here I am, looking through the outline of my post for Boston. It’s been five months and well, I abandoned you… my poor “readers”. The weather in Boston that weekend (in comparison to the rest of the trip) was dismal. Grey, rainy and in the low 50s. I threw together an outline telling myself I’d tend to it later. Assuming it was the jet lag or the underwhelming experience I had, I never got around to it. In reality, I was burnt out. So I now present you with the “missing chapter”…

Arriving in Boston, I took a bus from the airport to the nearest T station. After a subway car and a transfer to streetcar, I had arrived. My hostel was in Back Bay neighborhood, disgusting close to the Berklee College of Music. It was late and I wanted to have a drink and relax. The hostel staff suggested I check out the “best” dive bar, which was just around the corner. TC’s Lounge was not exactly what I expected. Overpriced drinks, internet jukebox and newer arcade games? How was this a dive bar? Regardless, I watched some Monday Night Football and eventually made it back to the hostel where I met my three roommates. As it turns out, I was the only male in my co-ed room. One of my roommates was a Chinese girl who spoke no english, she was asleep by 9pm every night and was always gone in the morning. Kristy and Kelly were a couple of lawyers from Melbourne, Australia on a 6-month around-the-world trip. Instantly jealous, my month-long trip seeming pathetic in comparison. Laying in bed, I overheard the Aussies complained of the cold. It was a thousand degrees in that room and I remember getting no sleep because of it.

After a shower and a shitty continental breakfast, I took the street and walked along the Charles river basin as the rain gently, yet consistently came down from the slate-colored sky, slowly drenching me. Eventually making it to the Public Garden/Boston Common area, I wandered about snapping a few photos until I decided to do something “historic” and walk the freedom trail. Due to construction and erratic nature of the freedom trail, it is suggested you get map to guide you. The price of this map is $3, proving once again that freedom isn’t free. Deciding this $3 piece of paper would be a waste of my hard earned money, I did the next best thing and downloaded a free PDF version of the map on phone. After an hour on the trail, I found myself bored but most importantly soaked. I took shelter in the Newbury Comics store at Quincy Market. While walking the aisles, I had this sudden realization that this day had already defeated me and it was time to return to the hostel and piss the rest of the afternoon away on the internet.

My stomach rumbled, I wanted pizza and I knew where to get it. Recalling a sign reading “Pizza and Cold Beer” on the walk back to the hostel, I left the hostel and walked about 50 feet before turning to my right to find Crazy Dough’s Pizza. A nifty little dry erase board next to the menu read “PBR – $1 a glass, $5 a pitcher”. That night my dinner consisted of three slices of pizza and a pitcher of everyone’s favorite swill. When I walked back into the lobby of the hostel, I found my Aussie roommates along with a whole bunch of other hostelers. I had made it just in time to join a bar crawl lead by one of the staffers. Sadly, our first stop was TC’s Lounge. A drink a some awkward conversation later, our group couldn’t agree on the next bar to go to, so we split into two groups. Fortunately, my group’s next (and final) stop was Bukowski. Craft beer and a nice mellow atmosphere? Could it get any better? Indeed it did. It was thrilling to see that not only did they have a Founder’s beer on tap, but it was my favorite! The breakfast stout! The rest of the night I conversed with the group which was made up of some Brazilians, an Englishmen and an Irishmen. Getting back to the room before the Aussies allowed me to open the window and cool the room down to a normal temperature. I slept a lot better that second night.

Another shower and a shitty continental breakfast later, I was on my way back to the airport. JetBlue had been really great to me all this time and I was sad to be on that last flight, but after the plane landed as I fumbled through my wallet to find my CTA pass. I was truly excited to be back “Home” in Chicago. Home sweet home away from home?

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