Everyone Loves a Boston Girl

The sketchiest, worst time in Boston ever is leaving the bars at 2:00 a.m. In Faneuil Hall. As a female. All alone. In the pouring rain. Probably my mother would come and pick me up and lock me in my childhood room at Rasmussen Circle forever if she knew I was wandering the streets at this hour alone. My dad would probably be crying to himself, wondering how he raised such an ignorant daughter.

I’m sure I was a sad, sad pathetic water-logged sight. In fact, I know I was, as a cab driver stopped to pick me up though he had 2 other people in the cab already. He determined I was going in their direction so he could take me too. Sweet. Normally, I’d be sketched out, but after waiting 45 minutes for a cab, I figured beggars can’t be choosers, so I risked my life. Obviously the guys in the cab were super sketch and kept asking me why I was alone. One put his arm around me…ewww please stop. They suddenly realized they wanted to go to the North End so the cabbie dropped them off and they tried to take me with them. Ummm no. Luckily, I jumped back in the cab and they continued on.

Alone finally, until the cabbie decided he needed to pick up more people. He would give me a $2 discount. Wow, just what I want at 2:45 a.m. I would have frigging paid the man $1,000 to get me home in one piece at this point. Obviously he picked up more passengers…luckily they were quite nice. They probably thought I was the sketchiest person in the world for being in that cab with the crazy driver, but I made it very clear I had nooo idea what the cab driver was doing. He tried to pick more people up too until one guy in the cab yelled “Please keep driving! I’ll pay you extra money NOT to pick up more people” Thank God he listened. In any event, I’m home. Only after the cab driver told me how he picks up lots of people all the time and sometimes “love connections” are made. Thanks but no thanks.

I love you dear friends, but please never ever leave me in the middle of Faneuil Hall all alone in the pouring rain, part drunk at 2:00 a.m. again. I know I’m 24 and a perfectly capable girl, but somehow I just can’t seem to manage Faneuil Hall at 2:00 a.m., ever. Going to dry my clothes out and go to bed.

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