A going away party


Friday, 22-May-2015


When someone leaves, they throw a party.  A going away party, one could say.

So now that I had a specific time that I was leaving, I put together a plan for this party of mine.  It’d be simple, see?  I’d have most things packed by then, so I’d just roll with solo cups and paper plates.  Food would be Babyback ribs, and drinks would be literally everything left in the house… a main goal of the party was to kill off all of the random supplies and leftover drinks that I’d accumulated over the course of nearly three years living at Harvey Street.


So I cooked the ribs, and bought the paper plates and the plastic knives.  I invited everyone over.  And then we partied!

It was an awesome party, though there’s no real point in trying to type up every detail of the evening.  Lots of lovely people showed up, and we made many toasts to good luck and happiness – both to my travels, and to the people stuck in Boston without me 🙂

After a while the party moved from the kitchen downstairs up to the upstairs – more comfortable seating was the main cause of migration, at least according to the environmental scientists in the group.  But they’re still working on publishing their research and having it peer reviewed, so we’re not completely sure of the actual cause.


Once upstairs we started winding down – talking a bit more sedately, and retelling old stories of adventures in long-distance travel, along with random fun things that we’d all miss in the coming year.  We finished up the random booze, and broke into the good scotch – something else that needed to be finished before the end of the night.

The one awkward point came when I heard a knock at the door – I was convinced that one of the neighboring condos had called the cops on us again, for being such young whipper snappers to stay up after midnight again.  But no – it was actually our neighbors son and his friend, wondering if they could join the party.  They even brought some drinks as a present… so it was just that more sad to have to turn them away.  Normal parties are great places to meet new people and hang out… but the end of a going away party really isn’t an ideal situation to introduce new blood into the group.


So we all kept chatting, and hung out.  We hung out late, until the last few people dragged themselves into Uber cars, trains, or various other modes of transport that tipsy people take.

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