January 20, 2013

• Boston At 2 AM

  So the beloved daughter wanted to hit an animation/sci-fi convention in the city…but lacked:

   

  1. Funds for a hotel room, which were SCANDALOUSLY expensive.

  2. Transportation.

   

  She’d already gotten a ticket, assuming she would find other geeks interested in sharing a ride… but a week ago, it was looking dim.
  So…hey…what’s a lift into Boston…twice?

  Followed by late night pick ups?

  It’s what you do, if you can. So yesterday I did my walk of NON-shame at 8AM…but tonight, things wound down at 2 ish…so once again I was headed for the Westin. Now my GPS did not take me the same way in twice…nor the same route home. I learned that there a BUNCH of ways in and out of the city…and that Boston looks pretty at night. I also learned that last call in the bars must be at 1:15…because by 1:45, the route to the Westin was AWASH with 20 somethings—all in various states of alcoholic buzzing.

  I say that because most of the cabs in Boston seem to be white…my car is dark blue, obviously NOT a cab—yet half a dozen people tried to flag ME down. If you can’t tell a white car from a blue car (nearly navy) you have had WAY too much to drink. At one light, I watched a late night hottie with interest. She was THE type most guys seem to find perfect…tall, willowy, slim. She was wearing one of those slip dresses, and tights…no jacket, no purse. She was none too steady on her feet, but like the rest was trying to hail a cab. By the streetlight, her makeup seemed sort of lopsided…she had not been crying…but may have sweated a bit. It was chilly by the river. But if I was a cab driver, I would not be stopping for milady.

  1. No purse…she had nothing in her hands. So unless she had the cash stashed somewhere I Didn’t want to know about, she was probably broke…no fare.

  2. She was just unsteady enough to suggest that she should have declined those last two or three vodka shooters—or whatever the hell they are drinking this week. I am betting she was going to hurl in the cab. Nasty clean up…and no pay.

  (By the way…she didn’t seem distressed…just pissed that the cabs wouldn’t stop.)

   

  I got to the Westin, THEN got the text saying the program had started late…she would be another half hour. (My daughter…not the drunken hottie.) So I amused myself by observing the unconventional conventioneers. (Gotta love the costumes!) One was seriously adorable.

  A boy of about 20 was wearing these STILT shoes…

   

  http://www.dhgate.com/kangaroo-shoes-jumping-stilt-jumping-jacks/p-ff8080812c1cd14b012c2220daf62028.html

   

  He could BARELY make it through the revolving door…but he did so, holding the hand of a girl dressed like a gypsy. Her friend was tugging her off to a cab—and at the last moment, she pulled away, ran BACK to stilt shoe guy, said something…and they KISSED. Then she ran back to the cab, and was gone.

   

  I’m starting to think when I lack creative juice, I just need to take a ride into the city…

   

  • 4:54 am
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