Out of the box and into the mug
Last weekend in JP was awesome. Great weather, good trips, some awesome enchilada’s on Sunday–Puerto Rico rocks as well. But from walking around near my house on Saturday, you’d have to think something was broken. There were just way to many tools.
I love where I live. Residents are friendly; they hang out on steps and stoops and one can always tell if a pretty girl is walking down the street by the aligment of men’s heads. It’s safe and there’s always free music blasting out of somewhere. The neighborhood feels lived in and I love it. Even the encroaching agents of gentrification–Sears vinyl siding vans–aren’t close enough to ruin the high of living here.
Except for The Brewery, or at least its clientele.
Just down the street from us is the Samuel Adams Brewery. It’s not a real brewery, rather I understand that they have a beer laboratory and a tasting tour. I haven’t had to worry about the former–no mutant strains of hops and barley have terrorized the neighborhood–but the latter can get be a little trying. I graduated from college for a couple reasons, and one of these was them.
You can tell the kids from a mile away. They usually travel in groups of five or more, befitted with tight fitting t-shirts advertising a summer camp that never existed (A&F Summer Fling…yeah right) or pink polo shirts–popped. Unsure of themselves in a neighborhood to which they have invariably not brought a map they often exchange conversation value for volume. Don’t get me wrong, I probably wouldn’t mind any of these individuals one-on-one. But the two of us together wouldn’t be enough to get each of our heads firmly emplanted in our asses. Apparently five or more is–teamwork.
The duck tours are innocuous–hell, I want to go drive around in a gigantic deisel powered amphibious trucks and quack at a bunch of suits. When I was in Britain singing Oasis with my two partners in crime, I figured we were obnoxious enough for a good punch in the nose and no worse. But seriously, when you’re making old women step into the street and lightheartedly shoving each other into parked cars you need an readjustment. At the very least, I’d like it if the adjustment took place geographically
JP is awesome and as such I’m going to borrow a page from JP development strategy: We said we didn’t want the highway ruining our neighborhood, so they put it Dorchester. Well, we don’t want a bunch of college hooligans, so send them to the Harpoon Brewery in Southie. Let them deal with it.
Video blog of the post: White Guy Eats Foreign Foods