Eventually we made it to the check in station…not late..BUT by this time the line was ridiculously long, wrapped around the building with people standing/blocking a perfectly functional car street.
Also, the wind was blowing so hard it was propelling my fat frame around, causing my hair to look like medusa in the movie: The Scorpion King. I even had to take off my earrings for fear they will be bloodily yanked from my ears. Good thing I had opted to dress “down” and just pull the hair back instead of trying to
spend hours straightening it.
When I tell people that the spirits of my ancestors are always with me , they laugh.
As soon as we FINALLY stepped into the check in building, Bell In Hands, it started snowing outside. Lord knows how much I hate any form of cold weather or component.if I was still out there I would have called it quits and gone home to watch some lifetime movies reruns. More courage to those faithful Bostonian drinkers who braved the snow and cold weather and stayed in line to get their wristbands.
Bell In Hands: The upstairs room had 2 section…we walked to the less crowded side and discovered some yummy hor d'oeuvre that was placed out for patrons but many had not discovered the buffet because they where busy dancing and what not on the other side of the bar.
McFaddens: The place was more packed than a sardine can. Even though all the discounted drinks where supposedly beers, the bar tender hooked us non-beer drinkers up to da boomdiggity dot com. Definitely see myself coming back here.
The Place: It had a bar and dance floor and they also had a dress code sign with your typical club line blocking rope thing at the entrance. I’m guessing the place also serves as a club at night? When we first walked in, our bar tender seemed to have a bad attitude. Then someone offered him a shot and within seconds his mood oscillated from angry black man to giddy, dancing while serving with tricks bar tender. Once again, Patron lived up to its name.
Hong Kong: Winner of the best music mix of the night for me. Tucked in a quiet alley not far away from Quincy market, it looked too small to be an entertainment spot from the outside. But once inside, we realized it was two stories and as usual headed upstairs to check out the scene. The 2nd floor has a descent size bar with a disco ball dance floor. We had so much fun we decided to quit the crawl and stay here for the rest of the evening.
At the end of the night on the way home, this wonderful train station employee wanted to take a picture with me. I hope he did not mistake me for a celebrity because as far as I know, there is no one out there I resemble. All black people do not look the same.He was so happy I couldn’t say No.