But I owe you part two of my Boston adventure, and it's already been almost a week since I was there! I'm starting to forget the details. When we left off, I had just sung for the first part of the karaoke contest. Since my biggest competition was the most unenthusiastic version of "Proud Mary" I've ever heard (Seriously- Ben Stein could've rolled down the river with more fervor. It was like the karaoke version of "Frasier"), it wasn't hard for me to qualify through to the semi-finals which were being held the following night. I'd like to say that I went home and practiced my vagina singing, but really I just bought a bag of fortune cookies and ate those on the couch while reading "Chelsea Chelsea Bang Bang" until like, 6am.
It rained the entire next day so instead of prancing through the flowers at the Public Gardens and making up my own dirty version of the Freedom Trail, I ended up sitting around the apartment I was staying in, sweating profusely. (I DON'T UNDERSTAND HOW PEOPLE CAN LIVE IN APARTMENTS WITH NO AIR CONDITIONING DURING THE SUMMER. THIS IS NOT OKAY WITH ME.) To pass the time, I spent a portion of the afternoon cleaning my friends room, because if there's one thing I excel at being, it's a sucker. (Plus I have this weird OCD when it comes to being in unorganized spaces for an extended period of time. Not my own- I will sit in my own filth for months at a time. But other people's places? I automatically start organizing. I don't know why/how this started.) Once I got to the bottom of the pile of clothing on the floor and found a dead bumblebee next to a 3 muskateers bar, I gave up and decided to do something more productive/less insect-y. (Like figure out what to use for a towel since the the towels in existence were OUT of the question.) I settled for the cleanest t-shirt I could find and started getting ready for my big night. North Quincy wouldn't know what hit 'em!
I got decked out in my diva best and finally got my friend Meat to stop complaining for long enough to drag him out in time to get Panera on the way. We ran into our friend Julie in the subway and so her original e-mail response politely declining my invite was nullified- and I happily dragged her ass out to Quincy too (quite possibly against her will, but I'm grateful just the same.) That was a nice surprise! My friend/competition Jordan (who did not TELL me that he had qualified the night before me and would be competing against me tonight) picked us up from the train station and we were off.
Once again Jordan and I were the only white ones competing. I felt bad having to go up against my friend- like we were stuck in a weird Star Wars sing-off... but he assured me it was "my night". (He lives there, he can always try again.) The rest of the competition was... oh who am I kidding, it was fine. It was cake. And cake is exactly what we went for at the end of the night. (After Jordan got lost, drove us in the completely wrong direction, and I peed my pants laughing while Meat whined in the backseat of the car about how he had to wake up so early. NOTHING MAKES ME LAUGH MORE THAN MEAT COMPLAINING. I seriously haven't laughed that hard in ages.) On our way to the only 24 hour bakery in the North End of Boston, we tried to turn down the one way street Meat lives off of to pull straight into his alleyway which is literally RIGHT there when you turn in (granted- wrong direction- but still. It's right there.) What we didn't anticipate, was the biggest D-Bag bicycle cop in existence to be parked on the corner, waiting to fight someone. As soon as Jordan started making the turn he started screaming. Meat rolled down the window and said "c'mon we're just going right there" and this A-hole has the nerve to start screaming "ARE YOU STUPID OR SOMETHING? ARE YOU RETARDED? DO YOU WANT ME TO ARREST YOUR BUDDY HERE? MORON!"
It was all we could do to back-up and speed off before Meat screamed "F*** you" out the window and started to try and get out of the car. (Meat is from Russia, they have bad tempers there.) I couldn't believe the nerve of that cop though. A simple "hey man sorry, one way street. Can't come down here" would've sufficed. OBVIOUSLY this particular officer hates his life, because he rides a BIKE around Boston's Little Italy all night and is most likely missing his scrotum or something. What a jerk.
Once we calmed down and hit the bakery, Jordan got a moon pie, I got German chocolate cake (not knowing what exactly made it "German"... but regretting it all the same. Yuck.) and Meat just continued complaining. You know, the usual. Jordan and I stayed up for hours talking about completely inappropriate and/or hilarious things and stuffing our faces, which meant that the night ended pretty darn successfully. The next morning I got a text from him letting me know that I had made the finals- my picture was up on the karaoke website. It's official! I'm that much closer to being the North Quincy, Massachusetts Idol. (And winning some CASH too!) I have to go back at the end of August for that, which I totally don't mind- as we know how much I loooove Boston.
(I will, however DEMAND a place with air conditioning the next time I am back. I counted this as my one third world country experience for the summer, and that's enough for me.)