Saturday, June 11, 2011


So my journey is truely beginning now.  I'm on a Mega Bus writing this blog and it's a nice feeling:  freedom.  It's a fleeting feeling, soon I'll be at the beck and call of Uncle Sam... too soon in my opinion I'd rather not think of all that.  I still have moments of panic where I think I left something crucial in my sister's apartment or worse still somewhere between her apartment and the South Station bus terminal.  Yet as this trip progresses I have a strange sense of calm... with the exception of how dang heavy my laptop is... I feel like I'm traveling light for two weeks prepared for any kind of weather.

The other night I met this guy and this story still amazes myself, so I have to re-tell it here.  I was at bar called the Meadhall, a nice place with a little overpriced food, but an amazing beer selection.  Met my sister's fiance and a colleague of his from work who was nice and well-traveled.  We were somewhat watching the Bruins game on the tvs on the second floor.  Meadhall used to be a bookstore or a library, in fact there are reading lamps on the nice racing track-style bar.  From our seats on the second story we had a great vantage of about half the restaurant and I sort of noticed this cute blonde waiter.  Well after a little Dutch courage and the fact that my sister and her fiance and his colleague were all happily coupled and I was in my words, "super single," I pointed him out to my sister and was goaded into at least making up a question to have an excuse to talk to him.

When I got to the bottom floor though he was on his way to the kitchen and I missed my opportunity to innocuously ask a question.  So I retreated to the bar momentarily to rally my courage... the bartender asked me if I'd like a drink and who am I to say no at the bar?  So I accepted and got carded again, and to my pleasure the drink was gratis because he saw my military I.D.  He asked if there was anything else I needed and struck by inspiration I asked him coyly if the waiter I'd noticed had a girlfriend.  Very amused he asked for my name and said he would find out.  Then he did one better and came back with a satisfied smirk, saying that the waiter was single and even better he was sending him over to say hi to me!

I immediately got self-conscious and happy.  I mean... what was I going to say?  "Hi, I was watching you from the second floor and thought I'd come down and hit on you."  He ended up being Brazilian (the portuguese just keeps paying off) and was happy to talk to me and was getting off work in five minutes.  I still cannot believe how effective it was to ask the bartender... but I am certainly happy I took that chance.  Now back to the trip and getting to Stewart International Airport or Dover.  Europe or bust!

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