Anyway, to save you the time and trouble from having to look for part one, here's a link. Re-read, review, and...here we go.
I left off right where I got back to town after fetching Bitch's keys like a drunk, pot-bellied bloodhound. After we went to grab the car, we figured we had already had enough excitement for one day (Fuck you Rhode Island), so we decided to just stay home and get drunk. As usual, bitch was hammered off of 3 drinks, pissing and moaning about various stuff. Myself, on the other hand...I was having a helluva time trying to get pissed. You see, this Natty Light stuff is exactly that...light. Between my interstate (F U RH) trip and actually eating, apparently I just didn't have it in me to get drunk, no matter how fast I mainlined those little bastards.
For a while, at least.
I have no idea what time we actually started drinking, but by midnight I had convinced drunk bitch that online gambling was cool, so he used his fancy new american credit card to deposit some money and to play blackjack. He also made me promise not to tell Jamie. Oops.
By 1am, I had finally caught up and I was gassed. He was doing well with his money. Me? Not so much. He had graciously let me use his extra laptop (who has an extra laptop?), and between baseball betting and blackjack, I was down a fair amount of money. At least 5 cases of Natty. Throw in the 2 cases I consumed that night, and it was a rough night. I still love Natty Light though, not to worry.
At 2am, we were just sittin around bullshitting, and we both kept hearing a loud banging noise coming from outside. We went out on the patio, and we couldn't see anything...but we could hear it. It sounded distinctly like a skateboard rolling down a hill, then it bashing into something after a failed trick. And an occasional "damn" coming from the skateboard's owner. It was directly underneath the patio, so we couldn't see the little bastard though. At first we ignored it, but it started fucking grating on our drunk nerves after a few minutes. Being the big tough guy I am, I decided I was going out to see what the fuck was going on. Out the front door, down the stairs, out the door, and I peeked around the corner to see...
A kid on a skateboard. Duh.
Instead of actually saying anything, my drunk ass just went back upstairs to inform Jess that, yes, it was a kid on a skateboard. And 3 sets of stairs wore me out after 24 Nattys. Nice work, Tim.
***I'm just waiting for the jokes you motherfuckers will come up with about that stairs comment. I might as well pre-emptively throw out a "I hate all of you".***
So, we're at a loss about what to do. Apparently we're too chicken to yell at a 14 year old. We're drunk. It's really annoying. We look out again, and notice a cop sitting in the bus loop across the street, who's not doing a damn thing. He's right across the street from a kid skateboarding AT 2 FUCKING AM in front of a bunch of shops, right under a high-end condo unit. I guess his Dunkin Donut had all 143% of his attention at that particular time.
The following conversation ensued after noticing John Law and his lack of law enforcement:
Tim: "Maybe we should call the cops?"
Jess: "What, yell across the street?"
Tim: "No, dipshit. Like, PHONE the popo. Ask why Super Trooper over there isn't doing anything."
Jess: "Do we call 911? They'll laugh at us."
Tim: "No, there must be some local police phone number. Go look it up."
Jess goes to the Watertown PD website, and you can actually listen to their police scanner on their website. So...we listened. Magically, not much was going on. Super Trooper apparently wasn't going to do anything about the annoying little bastard, so I called the police on him. How juvenile.
Jess: "You call. I'll fuck it up. *laughing uncontrollably* What are you going to say?"
Tim: "I dunno. I'll come up with something."
Watertown PD: "Police."
Tim: "Uh, hi. There's an annoying kid outside."
PD: "So?"
Tim: "Uh, I mean, this kid is skateboarding outside the building, banging and crashing, and uh, we can't see him but I ran downstairs and yea it's him, but, uh, he's annoying."
Jess: *still laughing uncontrollably*
PD: "Sir, he's just...skateboarding?"
Tim: Well, yea, but he's really loud, and it's 2am, and this is a nice building. That I don't live in. *muffled* CRAP!"
PD: "You don't live there? What?"
Tim: "I mean, my friend lives here, but he's...here. But he made me call. Anyway, there's a cop across the street, but he's not doing anything about it."
PD: "Maybe because there's nothing to do?"
Tim: "Well, he looks like he's good at doing nothing, but...I mean...uh..."
Jess *still laughing*
PD: ........
Tim: "Look, we can't sleep. This kid's bothering us. Who else are we supposed to call? Can you just get the cop to come over and get rid of the kid?"
PD: "Okay sir, I'll look into it."
Jess and Tim: "HAAAHAHAHAHAHA! Go beer!"
So, it's official. Jess and I were acting like 85 year old men. Ratting to the popo on some kid that was probably just bored. But dammit, he was annoying! We sat there impatiently for close to 10 MINUTES before we heard the dispatcher radio to Super Trooper across the street to do something about it. We watched through the blinds like drunk voyeurs as the cop went under the building, then even crept out onto the patio like drunk Ninjas so we could hear what was going on (we couldn't), until the kid and cop left. YES! SUCCESS! We high-fived, went inside, chugged our beers, and acted like we just solved a triple homicide.
Once again, go beer.
Fast-forward to saturday morning. Or, afternoon. I can't remember if I mentioned it in the last blog or not, but Jess got invited by his boss to attend the Red Sox game that night, and sit in a luxury box. These people are fucking rich, so it was a big deal for him. I had no problem with chillin for a night while he was high-rolling, so we decided to drive up to New Hampshire and check out Nashua for a couple of hours, then come back around 4 so he could head out. We were obviously worried that another state might try to stick it in our proverbial poopers, but it was worth the risk so we could add a state to our lists. My list is still longer, bitch. You know it!
So, we headed up to Nashua. Jess threatened to turn around the entire time so I wouldn't be able to add the state to my list. Damn him. Nashua was...plain. Town of 60,000 people, but it didn't feel like it. It had a main drag with 3 or 4 blocks of restaurants, and a whole lot of suburbia. Not bad, not great. We ate lunch, which was good. We saw a weird black couple arguing on a payphone by the gas station. Both of them, on one phone. The highlight for me was Jess laughing at my response to his "What do we do now?" question:
Tim: "What do we do now? Get out of this shithole state before something goes seriously wrong, that's what!"
So, we headed back to Watertown. I grabbed an undisclosed amount of Natty Light (somewhere between 6 and 36), and Jess headed off to the game. I went and got some pizza, emptied some Natty cans of their contents, and watched the game myself (since I had bet on it). Turned out to be a pretty good game. After watching some comedy shows and doing my laundry, I...drank more beer. Around midnight, the fun began.
I heard the door. I can't say I heard the door open, because it wasn't being opened. I'm sure someone was attempting to open it, but that person was waaaay too drunk to get that shit right the first time. Finally bitch gets inside, and nearly falls down in his kitchen right away. He is trying to tell me about his entire night in 10 seconds, but it comes out as a bunch of gibberish. He then aims for the bathroom and staggers in there. This is already one of the funniest things I've seen in weeks, and it's just beginning.
He's just leaning over the bathroom sink, spitting. I opened a chelada (beer + clamato, they sell them in cans down there) and offered it to him. He responded with a guttural NOOOO and spit a whole lot more into the sink. If I believed in a god, I would have been praying for him to puke right there, but alas it didn't happen. Why?
He'd already done some puking, that's why!
He managed to explain to me over the course of the next hour exactly what had happened to him that night. He went to the game. The box had an open bar. He was being fed beer. Then shots of sambuca, shots of tequila, and shots of something else. Then, shots of ALL THREE of those liquors poured into one glass. The game was a blur to him, he had no idea who won or what happened. After the game, they went to some fancy seafood place, where they consumed a shitload of oysters and other sea critters, along with more assorted liquors. Some girl tried to talk to him about something, and he yelled something along the lines of "GET YOUR OWN FUCKING OYSTER!" to her. Classy.
After finally escaping all of that, he decided he had to get home. Obviously, a drunk guy that was just out at a high-roller party, a guy with a high salary job, a guy that's residing in a pimp condo on the company dime...that guy finds the easiest, most convenient way to get home, right?
Too bad this is Jess we're talking about. He took the fucking bus.
Magically, halfway through his bus trip, he felt the need to puke. He rang the dinger thing about 400 times, fell out the back of the bus, and puked all over the place. On the sidewalk. Once again, classy. Only THEN did he decide a cab would be a prudent idea. I'm sure the cabbie looooved his smelly passenger. To top it off, he was passed the fuck out in the cab until he felt the urge to puke again. It just so happened that he was in the square across from his place, so he stumbled out of the cab, paid the guy somehow, and ran down to the river and puked again. The river that runs though the center of a really nice town. Pure class.
After that, he staggered home and told me the story. The above story was littered with the phrases "I'M SOOO DRUNK" and "I DON'T FEEEEL GOOOOOD" approximately 40 times. Each. I almost puked myself, from laughter. It was quite the story. After taking deep breaths and spitting in the sink for a bit due to me trying to continually offer him booze, he finally passed out. I had a few more beers and passed out myself, still laughing at his retardedness.
We had planned to go to Connecticut the next day, but I wasn't sure if bitch would actually be up for it or not. He was most definitely hungover, but he kept to his word and we headed south. We had to go through Rhode Island on the way, so we spent 40 or so miles just yelling and screaming at the fucking waste of land and it's citizens. There was no way in hell we were going to stop, that's for damn sure. We carried on through that shithole, and entered...another shithole. Actually, Connecticut didn't turn out to be that bad, but it's...strange.
Our first stop was only because I kept harassing Jess to go there. It was a town called Mystic. I have no idea why I've always wanted to go there, I...just have. There's nothing special there, really. It's a nice little town. It had a nice little marina with some old houses and stuff, which we were going to check out...until we realized it was some sort of museum, and we had to pay 15 bucks to do it. Suuure. Don't they know there's Indians up the road with a fancy ol' casino?
Here's Mystic, by the way:
So, guess where we went? There are actually two fancy ol' casinos in CT - Foxwoods and Mohegan Sun. They're very odd though. Other than a freeway sign, there are absolutely ZERO directions leading you to the casinos. No signs, no nothing. I'm not sure why. I think the state won't advertise for the Indians or something. Anyway, it took us forever to find one, and the only reason we could is because of the GPS on bitch's Iphone. Once we did though...wow.
We went to Foxwoods first. It was fucking MASSIVE. Bigger than any Vegas casino I've ever seen. They all look the same on the inside, but it's extremely odd walking from one part of the casino to another, and looking out the windows. In Vegas, you see neon, people, other casinos, traffic...in Connecticut, you see... Grass. And trees. FOR MILES. The casinos are like an oasis in the desert, except they're in a forest and they're an addiction source, not a water source. That was a terrible analogy.
So, we wandered around. Played some slots, did some exploring. We wanted to play blackjack, but every table in the entire casino had a 15 dollar minimum for some reason. I guess you gotta raise the stakes when you've got people trapped in the forest or something. Jess is still pretty hungover, which is quite amusing. We went into the sportsbook, since it seemed like the best place to get free drinks. Like everything else, it was absolutely huge. We sat down and bet on a few horse races, eventually earning a free corona. WOO HOO! I lost 22 bucks on horse races for a corona! Good deal!
After that, we decided to grab some food. They had a cool place called the "Burke In The Box" (seriously), but I wasn't down for a "cheeseburker". I couldn't make this shit up if I tried, folks. See?
We saw a cool BBQ place from far away and decided to go there, but we changed our mind once we arrived. The line was longer than the "non-citizen" lineup at a Canadian passport office. We would have been there for hours. There was a less-busy Hard Rock around the corner, which seemed like a good alternative. Couple beers, some loud music, and some guy asking Jess if he could use his Iphone. Surprisingly Jess let him, even though there was no way he was making a local call. Fuck, this place was so big I think a call from one side to the other would be long distance.
After that excitement, we decided to head over and check out the other casino, the Mohegan Sun. The worst part of the Foxwoods experience? We didn't see one fucking Indian. Not one. Fail.
By the time we got to Mohegan (using my awesome navigational skills), it was already dark. If I thought Foxwoods was big...wow. This place was even bigger. Our parking spot was something like Lot 5, Floor 4, Sector D, Sub-Sector QQ, Row 92, stall 1919. I wanted to leave a trail of peanut shells so we'd find out way back, but I didn't have any peanuts on me. Denied!
This casino was a lot cooler. It's divided up into 3 or 4 "themes", all having different features and layouts. It took us forever to cover the entire thing, but it was definitely worth it. I really liked it, since it just had a better vibe than Foxwoods. Same 15 dollar tables though. These invisible Indians weren't cheap either.
We were done with Connecticut, so we headed back to Boston. Bitch was STILL hungover, but I wasn't! We gambled some more on our respective laptops and I drank beer until he finally passed out. Apparently the Natty caught up to me quick that night, because I lost 50 bucks playing blackjack. Motherfucker!
Last full day was up, and it was Fenway time! We had some time to kill though, since it was a night game. Since I had been lazy as shit and hadn't actually gone to Harvard yet (even though it was 10 minutes away), bitch decided that he'd drag my ass there. I also had other motivations for going - I promised Lisa I'd buy her a Harvard hoody, and getting my lazy ass to Harvard was much easier than 2 years of listening to "I can't believe you didn't get me a hoody!" at the bar.
Just kidding Lisa!
So, we went to Harvard. As expected, it's really nice. It was the day before classes started, so kids everywhere were moving in. It was mildly hectic. A bunch of nerdy kids were hanging out in the square with a "FREE HUGS" sign. Even Jess took a pass on these deviants, and he's quite the hugger.
He's really not, but the thought of him hugging everyone made me laugh, so it stays.
Anyway, we had lunch there and wandered around for a while before we bought Lisa's hoody and left. Since we still had hours to kill, Jess said we should go downtown and check out the Marina and stuff. I had never actually done that my first time there, so it sounded like a good idea to me. As expected, it's a pretty nice area. The aquarium is right beside the marina, and they have a glass window facing out so you can see some of the animals. It was like a mirror!
I still had money left, and I make it a point of never going home from a trip with money, so we went to one of the many clothing stalls down there. I bought a black-and-green Boston hoody and a green Celtics hat. I was like a member of House of Pain. Or a fat leprechaun. The bitches were going crazy either way, yo. So, after all that (and beers of course), we made our way up to Fenway. We were sitting in dead center field, but it's Fenway...every seat is awesome. Well, awesome for viewing, anyway. The seats were fucking TINY, with zero leg room. It was like being on a Guatemalan bus. I was uncomfortable the entire game, beer or no beer. Stupid Fenway.
They introduced a bunch of US Olympic medal winners, which I didn't give a flying fuck about until...Alicia Sacramone was announced. Uh, she's kinda hot! And I've been closer to her (approximately 550 feet, give or take) than you have. So there!
The game turned out pretty good, lots of offense and Sox dominance. A couple of funny crowd incidents were the highlight for me though.
The first was a pushing match between 2 fans seated in the front row of our section. After babbling in their stupid accent and pushing a bit, security stepped between them. Well, the guy on the left didn't like that, so he reached around the security guard and threw his FULL DRINK right in the other guys face! The wet guy went fucking bananas, the tosser (and all of us) laughed hysterically, and security had it's hands full. Eventually they got shit sorted, but it was pretty awesome.
The second happened in the row behind us, about 5 seats over. A guy was absolutely gassed, basically falling asleep on his buddies by the 3rd inning. I guess he was sick or something, because he was also coughing uncontrollably (when he was awake). The girls sitting in front of him commented on it a couple of times, while he just mumbled an apology and kept coughing. In the 6th inning, shit went down, son!. I just happened to be looking over when he took a huge swig of beer, and I guess felt the need to cough immediately after...so he spit/coughed the entire mouthful all over the girls back. Needless to say, she wasn't amused, and completely flipped out (in her stupid accent). I tried my hardest not to laugh, but how do you not laugh at that? She berated the guy for a while, until his buddies decided enough was enough and escorted him out of the stadium...to a round of applause from quite a few people.
Our view in Fenway:
This, folks, is where the story winds down. After the game, a few more beers were consumed. My flight home left at 7am, so I had to be at the airport by 5:30 or so. Since I still hadn't adjusted to eastern time in the week or so I was in the zone, I was still going to bed at 4:30am every night. Yup, that means I got an hour of sleep, give or take. Bitch was nice enough to drive me to the airport (after I harassed him about it approximately 300 times), where my flight actually left on time. After a quick connect in Salt Lake City (I've been to Utah, bitch!), I got home around 10am pacific time. I had planned on going to work, but I was waaaay too bagged for that. I just took the bus home and slept for 17 hours or so. My usual ending to any trip.
Bitch, thanks for the hospitality. You're lucky that wasn't actually your couch, cuz I think I spilled at least 3 Nattys on it, and lost a chocolate bar in it. Oops. I'm never, ever going to Rhode Island again, and you shouldn't either. Yes, you went to Vermont after I left and I've never been. I got 2 words for ya:
Cook. Islands.
I win bitch! I WIN!
