Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Spring Brake? (Part 2)

This one might take me a few more words.

I stayed up until 5 AM the morning before going home. The previous night involved Chinese food, bears, a few bottles of wine, a beautiful woman, multi-colored dreadlocks, and a loaded handgun. I won't go into detail.

I woke up a few hours later and hurriedly packed in order to make an early bus back to New York. I didn't make the early bus. I did, however, return in time to see the Dropkick Murphys play at the Roseland Ballroom. There was this chick band called Civet. The lead singer screams a bit (she's clearly been hurt before).

Before that, I was refused service at a New York City pizza joint--the day I got back. I ate at McDonald's. Life is not fair.

Later, I was handed a garbage bag full of condoms, a pair of handcuffs, and a vibrator. Life is so not fair. This story also involves a white rat, a chest tattoo, and a trip to Australia. It's probably better if I just leave it at that.

I got a haircut and the guy  at the salon asked me for my cell phone number. I gave it to him--somewhat reluctantly and confusedly. He then explained that he wasn't asking me on a date but sometimes he has extra tickets to Red Sox games. If none of his friends can come, he said he'll give me a call. He's 55 and he and his wife have been good friends with my mom for twenty years. I felt awkward so I made some joke about NPR. He then told me about liberal conspiracies and how I'd be a conservative once I had a mortgage and kids. He's probably right. I'd drop my morals and convictions in a minute if it would make my life any easier. I'm a hypocrite. But my hair is beautiful and silky soft.

Later that night, when my friend and I were walking out of a pool hall, we saw a Petco across the street. We went in, of course, and my friend bought a black and white rat and named her Mary the Rat. This is why I hang out with him. Things are always interesting.

Other activities included collecting several dozen white rocks at some private beach and visiting my 82-year-old grandma in Queens in between writing papers and writing songs.

Now I'm back in Boston and Spring Broke--I told you about the puns.


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