I had grabbed a bus from Philadelphia to Boston with Jess and Sarah. They were only going as far as New York but at least I had a couple of hours with them. As NYC rolled into view, an excitement rose in me. Just the size of the place was overwhelming. I couldn’t not explore this, and promised myself I would come back before going to Toronto on the 23rd or 24th of October.
On arrival I changed my mode of transport to the train, and made my way out to Ilana’s place in Cambridge, where she met me at the station. I was thrilled to see her again. So thrilled in fact, that I had to take a burst in the bushes immediately after we hugged.
And so my Boston education began. Through a combination of running alone, but drinking, eating and following a red line through the city with Ilana, I started to get some idea of Boston’s geography and historical importance. I really liked what I saw of the city, and it felt much more homely than I had expected with its quaint buildings and understated nature.
I will note however that I am still upset that there is something known as “The Boston Massacre”, where something like five people died. That is not a massacre guys. That is a Tuesday.
On one of our excursions, Ilana and I played “fat or pregnant” on an unsuspecting Belarusian woman (a game for which we unsurprisingly never found out who won) after wandering around the disappointing Harvard campus. For a University of its prestige, I was hoping there would be a collage of turrets and grand flags, framing majestic courtyards. Instead, for the most part, it looked like a block of flats.
The other major highlight was Ilana showing rooms for potential house-mates. This sounds boring….until we introduce my favourite candidate. He was an odd guy, but not initially downright weird. However, alarm bells started ringing when he claimed that money was no object while having no announced source of income. Letting that go, Ilana continued to show the place to him. Minutes later he was taking precise measurements of the all the nooks and crannies in Ilana’s living room with a wild glow in his eyes and a disconcerting spring in his step. “Yeeees….this’ll do juuuust fine”, he probably hissed under his breath. As he did this, I caught Ilana’s eye. Telepathically conversing, we simultaneously understood: “Oh, NOW I get it!” we thought in unison. “Haha! He murders children and sells their body parts. Of course!”