As much as I love Hoboken, every now and then I get a little cabin fever and feel the need to check out another scene. After all, it can be a little restraining staggering around the same square mile week after week.
So I decided to take a trip to that land of the under-appreciated and misappropriated letter “R” – Boston, Massachusetts.
(Warning: There’s going to be some rough reading from here on in, and I recommend it to be done phonetically and out loud – my apologies for the awkwardness to those of you on the train right now.)
In the past when I’ve taken a trip to “Bahsten” it was strictly for a “wicked-good bendah.” I’d roll up for the weekend and get “retaahded” on Friday night at the “baahs,” then spend “Sataahday” just drinking “beeahs” and watching movies – like “Staah Waahs“; y’know, the one with “Daahth Vaydaah” and “Chewbawhck’er” in it?
Anyway, after a “wicked-good pissaah” with the “beeaahs” we’d go right back to the “baahs” and get “hammaahed” all over again. It was always a good time – and I mean “wicked-good.”
But this time my girlfriend and her sister were joining me – and since they had never seen the town, I thought it appropriate to take in some of the scenery BEFORE I started seeing double. We checked out “Haahvahd Yaahd,” then took the “T” downtown and walked along the “wataahfront.” We also had a slice of “pizz’ar” in “Quincy Maahket” near Faniuel Hall. It was a “wicked-nice day” out, so the walking through downtown and by the “Haahbah” was thoroughly enjoyable. Plus I got to show them some of the numerous “baahs” where I had been asked to leave on previous visits.
We made it up to “Chaahlestown,” which is a lot like Hoboken – only a little bit cleaner and a hell of a lot quieter. There we checked out the “Bunkaah” Hill Monument, as well as the various beautiful brownstones that give the part of town a character all its own.
As we made our way back to the “wataah,” we saw the U.S.S. Constitution resting peacefully in the “Haahbah.” Upon looking at that magnificent vessel, it’s then that one realizes just how much the drama of history has played itself out in and around that once-combative cauldron of the American Revolution.
Anyway – eventually it was time for “suppah,” so we met my friends McNamara and Boyle (Irish-Americans in “Bahsten” – there’s a “shockah”) as well as Boyle’s fiancee, “Eric’ar” at the “Tavehn on the Wataah” (Pier 6 on Eighth Street, “Chaahlestown,” Mass). As we walked in we saw none other than “Nomaah” Garciaparra, the injured shortstop for the “Bahsten” Red “Soawcks” sitting at the “baah” drinking a bottle of “Coron’er.” I left him alone, considering the fact that my opinion of the Red Sox was probably contrary to that of most of the bar’s patrons, and was better kept to myself.
After dinner (I had the “loabstah,” which was “wicked-good“) we finally saw “Bahsten”‘s best-known attractions – the “baahs.”
Boyle’s friends Duff (surprise, another Irish-American) and Devon met us at the Warren “Tavehn” (2 Pleasant St., “Chaahlestown,” Mass.) for some “coawhktails,” then we hit the Hill Tavern (228 Cambridge St., “Bahsten,” MA) to close out the evening. Both venues were extraordinarily comfy and casual, with plenty of room and a great atmosphere – qualities that are becoming harder to find in our little square mile.
Though the “beeah” was certainly flowing at a steady pace, I managed to avoid getting too “hammaahed” this time and left on my on terms – a rare display of discipline in that college-town which has been known to bring out the frat-boy in everyone.
So “Cheeaahs, Bahsten!!!” I’m actually a big fan – of the town, that is. The “Soawcks” still make my skin crawl, but I have to admit that I had a “wicked-good‘ time even without the constant and copious consumption of alcohol. And though that may not sound like much of a compliment, coming from me it means a lot!!!
“Hal Wastes His Wages” can be seen here every other week. If you would like to give Hal a suggestion as to how he can waste $50 in the metro area, write to:
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