Sunday morning in the city

I am a big proponent of living in a city during your twenties: there is nothing better than having a group of friends just a train ride away, having access to arts and restaurants and good times. I have to take issue, though, with the depiction of this lifestyle of TV. Young people always have apartments that are way too nice to be affordable, your best friends just show up at your door , and you all go down to Central Perk to talk about your day. That’s not really how it works.

Until today.

I was dozing around 8am when I heard my phone buzzing. I got up and saw it was a friend calling, and I immediately assumed it was an emergency (most likely that our other friend, who is visiting from NY, needed a ride somewhere quickly). So I called back and was told “be out front in 5 minutes”.

I dashed around the apartment brushing my teeth and getting the sleep out of my eyes. I threw on a pair of jeans and my fleece and went out front, where they were waiting for me in a zipcar and the BC shirts they had worn to the game last night.

They had gotten a Zipcar in order to go to McDonalds, and Max had seen a documentary on the ICA so he wanted to go down to the Seaport District and see it. Since my apartment was between those two points, they picked me up. After cruising the parking lot of the museum, we stopped at Dunkin’ for refills and drove out to Castle Island to sit behind Fort Independence, eat some Mickey D’s and complain about the cold.

We were going to watch a little Pop Warner, but we had to get the car back.

So it’s 9:30 on a Sunday and I’ve already had an adventure. Plus I had all the fun we used to have after staying up all night, but I got to have a good night’s sleep.

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