Saturday, 07JUL12, through Sunday 08JUL12.
There’s no rush. Saturday’s should never be rushed – instead they should be laid back affairs, taking in a leisurely breakfast before heading out to do something interesting.
This Saturday was exactly that. T and I spent the morning working on a presentation we were planning on giving the next weekend, then headed over to the neighborhood Chinese restaurant for a bit of lunch. We chilled, got stuff done, and generally felt as if we were bosses on vacation. Which we were.
After a few more hours of presentation work, we took in a quick snack and headed towards Boston for a bit of a pub crawl. Our first stop was the lovely Penguin Pizza in Brigham Circle, where we met up with our compatriots Chirag, John, and Filipe – I’d been hanging out with Chirag for a while, but Filipe and John hadn’t been around since I’d gotten back from New Zealand, so getting a chance to chill with them was rather nice. We drank and relaxed, told stories congratulated each other on our random accomplishments in the past few months.
Our next stop was the Squealing Pig, where we lost Filipe and John but picked up Mike, and listened to a bit of Mike Barrett’s singing. If you’ve never been to the squealing pig on the first Saturday of the month, Barrett is an amazingly dirty folk singer – I really don’t know how to describe his songs, aside from giving a few titles such as “Bristol’s Baby Daddy” and “The winky-wanky bird”. They’re awesome… but definitely aimed at the slightly-intoxicated college crowd.
From the Pig we moved on to Boylston St (where Mike ordered another five Quesadillas), but soon enough we were all pretty bored of the “club scene” that we’d run into. Seriously… I’ve seen a lot of popped collars in my time, but this was just too high a density for me to survive. We had to leave.
And so, we picked up Chirag’s hookah and headed back to Mike’s place to relax and banter. Now, before people get the wrong idea, Hookah’s are used to smoke tobacco, not any illegal drugs you may be envisioning. So Chirag set it all up, and we pretended that we were old-school Arabian princes, discussing philosophy and how exactly to rule the Persian empire most efficiently. I think at one point we even had turbans on, though they were less “silken robes of a prince” and more “bath towel from K-Mart”.
It was amazing, relaxing, and exactly the kind of de-stressing that I’d needed. I think we finally hung up the hookah around 3:30 in the morning, and T and I didn’t make it back to Medway until a bit after the sun had risen over the horizon.
And so, we slept in. Late. Or… sort of late – we were mobile by a bit after the clock struck noon, and finally out of the house in search of breakfast not much later. Unfortunately for us, towns like Medway don’t really cater to the “lazy college student” crowd, and so we had to drive around a bit before we could find a real breakfast joint that was still serving the pancakes that I required. But once we did it was just like old times back in Boston – shoveling food into our faces while laughing and remembering the insanity of the previous night.
T headed out shortly after we finished breaking our fast, citing his need to keep up on the job search before the next week rolled around. I was in the same boat, and so we gave each other a righteous bro-fist and went our separate ways… at least until the next time.