P: Diane in Boston Part IV: Science and Communist-Themed Bars

I realized I never finished posting about Diane's visit to Boston, aka "dorktastic weekend," where we met characters whose mouths smelled like "the inside of a butcher shop," and there were some hoochie/butchie (aka bootchie) tank tops worn, and there were social hoverers invading our conversations (c.f. "Spatial Diagram of 2 beers, water, and a pepper shaker, aka hoverer). I believe I was about to recount the exploits of our Saturday night, where we ended up in Cambridge at some interesting bars. We were there with Diane's friends from college: Mike and his fiance Megan, who were both very sweet.

Diane and I had a "snack" at Jacob Wirth's--bratwurst, salad, mit red cabbage unt potatoes, we then got dinner at--very glamorous--my local supermarket's prepared foods aisle. Which entailed bowtie pasta and meatballs. Whoop whoop! We then rallied to Miracle o Science, dubbed an MIT bar with the periodic table menu.

Diane, contemplating all things science. See the periodic table in the background.

However, upon arrival, we were somewhat saddened to see that it was ALL GIRLS. What up with that? Where were the dorky MIT guys that I've come to know and mildly tolerate? So, we had a pint of Ipswich ale, which turned into pitchers, and then Mike and Megan showed up.

Dennis the bartender snapped this pic for us. Incidentally, I am as brown as a rice paddy worker (while wearing the bootchie see-through tank top.)

Anyway, it wasn't until closer to 11pm that the bar started filling up. And up. And up. It was hella crowded, so we were quite lucky to get a little perch at the bar. Then there was this random Asian guy (I think Chinese) who kept trying to challenge us to shots, or something. So I chugged a beer with him (I asked him, "what's in it for me?" and I was under the assumption that he would buy my next round), but after I chugged (and I think I won), his little Asian girlfriend came out of nowhere and began shooting daggers in our general direction.

The guys in the bar were varying levels of dorky/cute, and Megan and Diane started talking with these guys who were like the B&T equivalent of Boston. For better or for worse. But then I think they got scared off by the huge rock on Megan's hand. And THEN they offered to buy the couple some drinks, to which Mike chivalrously declined.

Next we were off to People's Republic/k, a Communist-themed bar. Of course, only in Cambridge! There was a huge picture of Che Guevara, which reminded me of Morgan's T-shirt with the same print. Remember when were were accosted by these teenage hooligans by the Cube in Astor Place, asking Morgan if she knew where Che was from? Hooligans, I say, hooligans!

speaking of hooligans...

Anyway, we ended up talking with some Euro grad students, who were from, respectively, Italy, Switzerland, the Middle East, and Park Slope. The Swiss French guy looked a bit like Daniel Day Lewis circa "Age of Innocence," but that was all. Anyway, I spoke a little broken Italian with these folks, and Diane thought the swarthy Italian guy was hot. Which then reminded me--ha ha--of her high school soccer team trip where she had a rendezvous with a fellow kinsman...no?

more tomfoolery

Das Boot!

We didn't stay at the People's Republic for too long; Diane and I grabbed a cab towards Fenway, where this guy from my running club was having a house party. This guy is actually pretty annoying/dorky; my roommate can't stand him. But y

et I felt compelled--compelled!--to show Diane how people do it up, Boston-style. So we arrive at this ridiculously run-down warehouse/loft, with tarp on the ceiling, and people living in cupboards (literally, sleeping alcoves in cupboards). Diane has a conversation with one of the housemates, and I suspect they are talking re structural facadework. One of the guys at the party was also at my birthday party, incidentally, and he's half-Korean half-white, so he was telling me about his year in Korea. Then Diane and I called it a night after about a half-hour, which then puts us home around 2:30/3, and we pass out.

The next morning, we meet Amy at South Street Diner, before Diane has to grab her bus home. I was anxiously looking forward to this meeting, as it would be the two sides of Brian Hsia united, AND ...Diane is 5'9" and Amy 5'10", so I was eager for them to start a kind of height-comraderie club. Incidentally, Diane said, "look, now we form the Golden Gate Bridge," with the two tall ends standing on either side of me. Har har, Diane. Anyway, I hope the two got on swimmingly, and there will no doubt be many more reunions to come.

After a ridiculously fatty brunch, Amy and I headed back to Somerville, changed up, and went for a 10 mile run. What?

And then the ceiling of my bathroom collapsed all over the toilet. at 11:58pm. So Diane, in case you were wondering why it seemed like my roommate took a dump in the bathroom and left, it was actually that there was a crack in the ceiling and all kinds of unsavoury toilet smells from the apt above had escaped. Oh happy day.