TDL’s Sports, Wrestling, & Otherwise

Ms. L was pinned by the late-filing deadline of October 15th… so the only way she could go to the wedding was to take the train to Boston on Saturday morning and take the train back to New York on Sunday morning. This meant I “volunteered” to go pick her up at the train station.

7:00 am: Good lord.

9:00 am: Ugh.

10:00 am: Food.

10:05 am: One awesome thing about New England, there’s always a Dunkin’ Donuts pretty close. I meander across the street to a random plaza that, of course, has one. Dunkin Donuts, by the by, is the fourth option on the Hangover Remedy Depth Chart… trailing Random NYC Breakfast Cart (bacon/egg/cheese on a grilled hard roll, coffee, OJ), McDonald’s AM (2 McGriddles, Large coffee, Large OJ), Burger King PM (2 Whoppers, Large Powerade). Dunkin Donuts sports the Supreme Omelette on a Croissant and a large coffee.

11:45 pm: On the road to South Station. I kind of remember how to do this. I remember that the exit to the Bus Terminal’s parking lot is right off the exit. I can’t possibly screw that up, right? *foreboding music*

12:10 pm: I see the exit, but there’s an HOV restriction on the exit. You need to have 2+ people to go into the parking lot? What? My brain freezes and I end up not getting off the exit but end up on Atlantic Avenue. The exit drops me off almost in front of the station.

I don’t know how many of you have driven in Boston, but it’s awful. People complain about driving in New York but really, that’s pretty easy. New York is an island with a highway down each side that meet at the bottom…. after that everything’s a grid. It’s easy. Boston, on the other hand, is ridiculously confusing with no parking. Frequently, directions off MapQuest have U-Turns written into the directions. I’m now trapped here.

12:20 pm: After driving around South Station (and taking 2 U-Turns) I finally just give up and pull into cab parking. I am not a cab and, therefore, am getting angry looks from cabbies. My plate is from New York, we can just do these things.

12:45 pm: I’ve now been in 10 minute parking for 25 minutes.

1:10 pm: Ms. L’s train gets in on-time. She walks outside looking as wiped out as someone who’s worked 14 consecutive 19 hours day can look. She’s also got her laptop with her.

1:30 pm: 2nd Dunkin Donuts trip of the day. The Starbucks is being flushed out of my system.

1:50 pm: The “guys ready room” is directly across the hall from me. I continue trying to fight through my hangover with a Sam Adams Boston Ale. It’s not helping.

2:00 pm: Back to my room with a shower. I like the wedding party but I don’t need to shower with them.

2:30 pm: Ms. L, the most dedicated employee in the history of the game, is on her laptop fixing a return. For those keeping score, I’ve now paid $20 for Internet access.

2:45 pm: Back across the hall to watch Boston College vs. Notre Dame. In other news: BC is good this season. Who knew so many people liked watching Triple-A football. There is a sandwich platter and chips. I pick up the the sandwich and a mustard packet. I actually hear the foreboding in my mind and set the mustard packet back down. Surprisingly, it doesn’t explode all over my suit while I’m setting it down.

3:15 pm: Back across the hall to my room to tell Ms. L I’ll be leaving soon. Her words: “Have fun… I’m about to dominate this bathroom.” She begins laying out make-up tools like a surgeon laying out scalpels.

3:30 pm: On the bus to the DeCordova Museum and Sculpture Park. Totally different than any other place I’ve attended a wedding. Really cool though.

4:00 pm: Pictures begin out in the sculpture garden. The photographer was a bit……… eccentric, but she seemed like she was supremely awesome at what she does. I can’t wait to see the pictures. Outdoor wedding pictures in a sculpture garden? Can’t beat it.

5:00 pm: Inside the museum for the last phase. The groom has asked for neither the pack of cigarettes nor the flask of bourbon I have stored in my suit. Good for him.

5:45 pm: People start showing up. As this is the least conventional wedding in the history of the game, I don’t have to seat anyone. I’m loving this. This is the easiest groomsman job ever.

6:00 pm: And we’re off.

6:20 pm: And we’re done. Goddam I love Justice of the Peace ceremonies.

6:30 pm: The reception is actually going to be in the same room as the ceremony. While they’re switching the room over, the collection of folks go out into the waiting room. Mr. and Mrs. Show, God bless them, have open beer and wine… however, beer snob that he is, it’s not a keg of Coors Light. He’s got bottles of Blue Point Toasted Lager, Allagash White, A stout I can’t recall, Lindemen’s Peche Lambic (also the substitute for those who didn’t want champagne), and one other beer that slips my mind now. Not to mention some random hors d’oeuvers… especially some little steak things and sushi things that I could have eaten for hours.

8:00 pm: Cocktail hour extends into an hour and a half.

I’m going to skip the rest of this because it was sort of a blur. Lots of good food and lots of good friends. I had a great time and I think I actually knew more people at that wedding than any other wedding I’ve been to. That made it fun. I even pried Ms. L away from her job for 12 hours so she could have a good time, too.

All in all, a big congratulations to Mr. and Mrs. Show and I expect home-made ice cream out of your new ice-cream maker… mixed with Double Chocolate Stout.

Battery Park City’s demise has been greatly exaggerated. For a while it was touch ‘n go, but it fought it’s way back valiantly.

The apartment we found in Rector Place turned out to be the winner. Most of the other places we looked at were only $300ish/month less than this place, and this place is much more convenient to subways than Murray Hill or Yorkville. Unfortunately, it means my days on the 4/5 will be extended indefinitely. My ultimate desire was somewhere in the East 70s that would be close enough for me to walk to work but, alas, it is not to be. I get to pry myself into the 4 every morning.

So, we are officially making the shortest move in the history of moves.

$300 to the movers.

As it turns out: an owner of an apartment would rather deduct $200/month for 2 years instead of painting his apartment. I guess there’s something to be said for living in a city where people are certainly too rich.

Now, feel free to let me know why staying down here for another 2 years wasn’t a bad idea.