Luke Grown Up

Late Saturday afternoon, I get an IM from Ross. He invites me into Boston for the night. I had arrived back a couple hours before from the end of my certification for my summer job as a ropes counselor at a local summer camp. I was drenched by the end, but I took a shower and am feeling better. I make an effort to clean up my room so I can snag some cash from the M-Unit (Mom), and my efforts bear the most beautiful fruit: money. After my dad and I sit in his car waiting for the train and he assures me we aren’t going to make out, the train finally comes, and I hop on, eager to start the night in Boston.

On the way I watch part of Bullitt, but I don’t get too far, for the train comes into Ruggles and I hop off. Ross had told me earlier that the station is about a 10-minute walk from his apartment. Of course, I get lost. I call Ross for directions- turns out I had walked the entirely wrong direction. Whoops. 2 cloves and 30 minutes later, I finally have arrived. Ross and I sit on his couch for a little bit, eating pretzels with peanut butter as I call Kurt up. Kurt makes his way over. We flip the channels. Kurt arrives. We depart for dinner: subs at Tremont House Of Pizza.

On the way, I go into the liquor store across the street from the pizza place and get us a 12-pack of Miller Lite and a 40 of Steel Reserve for Kurt. I then head over to the pizza place and order a veal parm sub. I step outside for some air and some girl walks up to me and asks to use my phone. I let it happen, but tense my muscles to chase if she runs away. Luckily, nothing became of this incident. When the subs are ready, we walk back to Ross’ and enjoy our food and beer. Let the boozing begin.

As I’m eating my sub and enjoying a Miller, Ross leaves the room to do something. I look over at Kurt: he is laid out on the loveseat, eating his sub and chugging his 40. As if just to wash down the food. He is more than half-done with the 40 before I am done with my first beer. I tell him to take it easy. I finish both the beer and the sub and grab can number 2. Kurt is now done with his 40, and is ripping off the label and ripping up the sub bag and stuffing them into the bottle, claiming he made Ross a present. When I’m about 3/4 done, Ross wants to shotgun, and I can’t turn him down. The three of us head into the kitchen and I start cutting open the cans. We shotgun, and like an asshole I do a piss-poor job finishing it in one gulp (I don’t). I finish my other beer and we get moving to a party Ross says is going to be awesome.

We have to walk from MassArt to Northeastern to get to this party - it’s a walk, but it’s not too bad, and the weather is nice. Ross and I are feelin’ good and working up a slight buzz. Kurt on the other hand is a garden plant by now. He is falling behind us really far, and he keeps making ridiculous comments. He also keeps seeing people he knows - I feel unloved. When we finally arrive at the party, Ross buys us cups and we get some beers. Then we head downstairs and take turns taking screwdriver shots from the oddly-abandoned ice luge in the kitchen. I go first, and it’s pretty good. Really not too bad at all. Then I feed Ross, then Ross feeds Kurt. We enjoy. I am thrown into a game of flipcup and perform very well the first round, so I am made the anchor. Big mistake. The next two games I fuck up, as I usually do. I fill my cup with the refill pitcher reserved for the game and scram.

Later on, around 12, Kurt leaves and we hit the ice luge again. This time with straight vodka. Some guy wants to do it but refuses to go in the lane next to me. I call him a pussy and he goes next to me. So Ross pours straight vodka down my throat and I nearly gag on the shit. I feel like garbage and go to the bathroom. Luckily, I didn’t get sick. After I drain Senor Lizard I leave and head into the other room and have some champagne (it was someone’s birthday at the house). Then I go to the next room to watch the end of the Sox game. I’m ready to roll - it’s about 1:30. Ross and I bounce and begin the walk home. On the way he calls Em Checkoway and pretends to be me - she believes him. He also won’t stop talking about Chinese food - he is ready to kill to get some.

When we arrive back, I chow down the rest of my sub while Ross trashes the place looking for a menu for a Chinese place that’s open. He orders two General’s Chicken meals - each come with pork fried rice. We watch TV as we wait for it to arrive. When it does, we chow down and down the chow with Millers. We conclude that the food is not that good and retire to our respective chambers (Diaz isn’t around, so I stay in his bed, whose headboard hits the wall with each movement, annoying the shit out of me).

When I awake the next day, I toss on the television and go to the free movies On Demand (what I do there whenever I wake up early). Dick Tracy is there, and since I’ve never seen it, I throw it on. Ross comes in about a minute into the film, and around the 6-minute mark we see Lip Manlis (a character with ridiculous lips) eating oysters and making a mess. We laugh our asses off. After about 20 minutes I decide I don’t want to watch it at all, so I get rid of it. We then watch Spongebob, Wet Hot American Summer, and various other things while eating the rest of our shitty food. We decide to walk around the city since it is beautiful. Hours later, after showering and all, we still haven’t left. It is getting somewhat late (3:30), so we hit the road. We head across town to Newbury Street. On the way we stop for slices at Cappy’s, and then Ross buys me a Great Buy! can of Arizona Iced Tea. Fantastic. We walk through the Christian Scientist area (whatever it’s called) and it is gorgeous. The pool in the middle is awesome, and I am loving it. I take a couple good pics of Ross, and then we pretend to feed a duck. The duck swims over as we both hold our hands out, and it’s not sure which of us to go to. Meanwhile, a guy is lining up behind us to take a picture of the two of us with the duck (we think). Finally, Ross splashes it, and the duck is apathetic. However, the guy is a little annoyed - we think we ruined his picture, so we walk away.

We finally reach Newbury, taking in a man on a motorized skateboard riding in the road. We follow the street to the public gardens and sit on the bank of the water near the bridge for a bit, enjoying a clove. Then we walk up the hill and take off our shoes and lie in the sun. The weather is perfect, and the sky is a deep blue. It is fairly quiet (though there are many people around), and we hear, “ALALALALALA” coming from a foreign tongue. Ross and I start laughing. We calm down and lie around more, observing the great-looking women ambling about.

A little later, we are lying in the sun, half-asleep. Suddenly, I hear a young girl’s voice from close by: “Daddy ruined the day!” Ross and I crack up, as do some other people that are hanging out near us. I sit up and see some little girl storming away from her parents. About a minute later I look up again and see she is back next to them saying “What did I do wrong?” as a young Jewish boy shoots a foam rocket into the air and continues getting dangerously close to some guy’s crotch on landing. Ridiculous!

As we are leaving, Chris D’Errico calls us, telling us to come over. He and De just moved into Allston the week before, and they were having people over. We hop on the T at Park Street and head out to Packard’s Corner. We arrive, and D’Errico, De, De’s brother Ken (who you’ve met in a previous story), and De’s friends are there. We hang out for a bit, and I try some homemade wine - not too shabby. Then the boys head out to watch the rest of the Sox game at a bar. We walk into Great Scott and hear “Shake It Off,” a song off the new Wilco album. I immediately declare the bar to be awesome. D’Errico and I buy Harpoon UFOs and grab a table. After a few sips, D’Errico manages to knock his entire beer over, spilling it all over the floor. Embarrassed, he goes to buy another, but the bartender gives it to him for free. After some good times watching the Sox blow it, we all leave, looking for an open liquor store.

We are having trouble finding one - the two around are closed tight.  It’s about 8:30.  D’Errico also needs cheese so he can make a wheel.  We poke our heads into a couple convenience stores looking for both, but no dice.  Finally, we just concede to getting burgers.  Ross buys us all 1-buck burgers at McDonald’s (D’Errico asks for “cheapest hamburger” - I get a $1 double chee).  On the way back to the apartment, we almost walk by a store when I notice they sell booze. Chris goes in and gets a 12-pack of Bass while I grab mozzarella cheese from the cooler.  Then a problem arises: Chris is 85 cents short.  The cashier tells him to just pay him back the next time he is in there.  Chris and I leave, dumbfounded.  We head back to the apartment and hang for awhile. Then Max comes, who I haven’t seen in months.  Then around 10:30 we leave so I can catch the train.  Max drives us back to Ross’ place and I grab my shit.  Then we head to Ruggles.  I get down to the platform with 25 minutes to spare.  Alone, I take the time to reflect on my visit to Boston, as well as the coming week, as well as the choices I’ve made throughout life. I don’t really reach any conclusions because before I know it, I hear “TRAIN APPROACHING- PLEASE REMAIN BEHIND YELLOW LINE” repeated on the speakers.  My train arrives, and I hop on.  I throw on Bullitt, but I am dozing off. I remain half-asleep until my stop, which I almost miss because I am trying to sleep.  Then I come home and sleep soundly.

Let me tell you, that was quite a good time. Best I’ve had in awhile.