Okay, well maybe I’m not *the* King of the Crawl, but I’d have to say yesterday was a great success. Everyone appeared to be happy and great fun was had by all, despite the cool, rainy weather. I met Neil and Cazz at The Purple Shamrock at 12:24 pm and commenced my day with a Black & Tan. Perry and Michelle joined in after 1 pm (sidebar: Perry loved his frosted Coors Light pint glass so much that the bartender let him take it for free; she was an early supporter of our crawl, as Cazz filled her in) and we were off to find Hardytrain, who was wandering helplessly throughout the city. He had taken a wrong turn (walking, mind you) and walked from Park Street to Beacon Hill and then nearly to Charlestown. We collected him at The Black Rose, where our group remained The Original Six until the next pub or so.
Having learned from my mistakes made on the maiden First Semi-Annual Quincy Center Pub Crawl, I drank plenty of water and ate a couple of times, mainly maraschino cherries from scorpion bowls. I think we visited 12 bars (I was totally fine with this crawl being about quality rather than quantity of pubs visited) and our group included about 20 people altogether.
Having read the journal with all of yesterday’s entries, apparently my catch phrase for the day was "Where’s my drink?!?" That quote seems to have come out of my mouth quite a few times. I also seemed to go on a 20-minute rant at Ned Devine’s because the bouncer wouldn’t let me bring in a bottle of water I had just bought. I chugged the water, threw out the bottle, and then wondered aloud if water was considered a contraband substance.
I probably owe certain people an apology for chasing them with gum. I definitely owe some people an apology for having to see me dance. I owe the bartender at Hennessy’s (was it Hennessy’s?) a debt of gratitude for not letting me pay for the guy’s meal when that guy claimed he was still eating that food that I put my gum on. Rather than get beligerant with the guy, I offered to buy him a new meal, but luckily the bartender said he’d take care of it.
I was feeling mostly in control as we headed to the Union Oyster House, our twelfth and final stop. The DJ played my request – Copa Cabana – and so I had to hit the dance floor. Allison and Dan were leaving at 11:20 and this is where my memory needs some help. I think I decided to walk out with them because I was tired and done drinking. The next thing I know, I woke up on the Green Line and I don’t live off the Green Line. I got off, but can’t remember which stop it was. I was too tired to go back in the other direction to change to the Red Line, so I walked a bit and caught a cab.
I was able to tell the cabbie "Exit 9 is good…" before I took a little nap. He woke me up on the Exit 9 on ramp and I directed him to my ATM, since I was low on cash. Unlike the night of the infamous "main access road" story, I didn’t use my library card in the ATM card slot. I also didn’t pull the trigger in the back of this guy’s cab. I successfully withdrew a load of cash, gave the guy a tip that was way too big, and somehow made it to bed.
All in all, a fun day. After doing two of these within 30 days, I think I’ll abstain from booze for the next eight months.
