I woke up on my own at about 9:15, made the bed, showered, and packed. I took some pictures around the house on the inside, and out back as well.
Aunt Annette and Uncle Frank were expecting Uncle Franks daughter Karen, and her husband Joe, at noon.
Uncle Frank toasted me some masa for breakfast, and afterwards, I helped them set the table in order to be able to eat right when Karen and Joe arrived. Karen is always prompt, and Aunt Annette wanted me to be able to eat with them before I headed for the Cape.
Karen was prompt, and we were sitting down to eat by 12:15. We had the most delicious lasagna — a “meat lover’s lasagna” I would say. Accompanied by a wonderful salad, and some killer bread. Oh, yeah, and some marinated chicken breast strips on the side. 🙂
After goodbye hugs, I was on the road just before 1:00.
At 1:10, I passed the exit off I-95 for the TF Green airport, which is where I’ll be returning to on Wednesday, so made a note of the time and mileage to help gauge my return trip.
I followed I-95N, and then took I-195E to toward the Cape. I went over the Braga Bridge, and through Fall River on the way. While on the Braga Bridge, I made my Father’s Day call to dad, but got their answering machine.
I had to talk to someone from the Braga Bridge, so I called Vivian, who I caught at home. I caught her up a little on the weekend, and we laughed, as we always do.
On the other side of the Bourne Bridge, which I would guess from this landscaping, I entered the beginning of what’s called Cape Cod.
Right around the rotary, I stopped to fill up, where gas was only $2.99 a gallon. I say only, as I expected it to be a lot more up here, particularly on the Cape. I forgot that in Massachusetts you don’t pump your own gas. I think it might be against the law.
I returned to the rotary, took it 45 degrees, and exited toward Route 6, which takes you up the Cape. There was virtually no traffic all the way up the Cape. At about halfway up, I ate one of the four chicken sandwiches Aunt Annette and Uncle Frank had sent with me.
About three-quarters of the way up, I stopped at a rest area to pee, and parked beside a motorcycle. Sitting at the curb at the top of my parking spot was the biker. I couldn’t pull my car all the way in for fear of hitting him.
When I got out, he asked me where I was from, and we exchanged that information. He was from Vermont. When I returned to my car, he was gone.
I pulled into Provincetown at 3:40, almost two-and-a-half hours to the minute — 131 miles.
At the first exit (of the three) in Provincetown, I called the Aerie House for the most direct route to their place. Second exit, the one with the light, turn left. That dead ends at Bradford; turn left. “We’re about four blocks up on the left.”
Steve checked me in, and showed me around the place. They have two huge black labs – very, very sweet dogs — on the property and they were there to meet and greet when he showed me where the complimentary bikes were kept, and continuing with us to see where the hot tub was.
He showed me the upstairs deck, where a complimentary breakfast is served every morning from 8:00 until 10:30, unless the weather’s bad, then it’s served inside, downstairs. He led me in the back door, the one to use after 7PM as the front door makes noise that can disturb the one bedroom that’s by that door.
We passed two bathrooms in the hall, which are shared by some of the rooms, and then he showed me into mine, with its own bathroom. Cute! See pictures here.
After unpacking, I fired up my laptop, and got reconnected to the Internet, presumably with only moments to spare before going into withdrawal. It’s been since last Friday morning before leaving Boston that I’d connected. Whew!
Surprisingly, the world did not stop revolving without me. I didn’t really have that much mail, and what I did have wasn’t pressing. Go figure!
At a little after 5:00, I walked over to the Boat Slip for Happy Hour. This is P-Town’s biggest Tea Dance (as we call it).
The Boat Slip boasts a huge deck, on which people hang out. There’s a dance floor just inside that actually opens out onto the deck as well.
I did the usual non-extrovert extrovert thing, and didn’t speak to anyone the entire two hours I was there. Take that back. I spoke once to one of the waiters, who was an absolute doll. I said, “You are absolutely adorable.” He said, “Thank you,” with a big smile on his face.
I was reminded again that it was Father’s Day, when I guy came over to his friend, who was standing beside me, and said, “You’re mighty subdued on this trip.”
The guy responded, “Yeah; this is the first year my daughter’s here. She’s spending the summer. She’s 16. And my son is 21.” He looked like he could easily “pass.” Ex-married gay men abound.
I had two drinks, which were $6.75 each, while I was there. They have four or five bars there, and the one at which I (arbitrarily) chose to get the first one couldn’t find their “house brand,” so gave me Jim Beam. There was a $5.00 cover charge to get in. I feel certain that the last time I was here, the cover charge was $10.00, which was outrageous.
On the way back to my guesthouse, I stopped at Spiritus Pizza, a Provincetown staple, and had a slice of pepperoni pizza for dinner. Yum!
Here’s a webcam, which scans the outside front of the place.
Back at the guesthouse, I sat in the lobby for a while, writing, and Steve, one of the guesthouse owners (the one who had checked me in) ate dinner, and watched the Red Sox game on a large screen TV. Who says gay people don’t like sports?
He was talking to the TV at times, usually when a good hit or play took place, and I made a note that I hadn’t yet, and probably wouldn’t the entire time, turn on the TV in my room. It’s a nice one, too. I think it’s a plasma one, complete with a DVD player, and they have lots of movies in the lobby, free, to checkout.
Before heading back up to my room, I asked, “So, is there a place to be tonight as far as the bars?”
“Purgatory,” he said. “Sunday night is Purgatory. That’s where most of the people will be.”
“And where might the non-muscle boys be?” I asked.
“Oh, it won’t be all muscle boys at Purgatory. The next best place would probably be the A-House.”
I did go to Purgatory, where I had a $5.00 bourbon and diet. They used Early Times bourbon, and it was pretty nasty.
I played eye contact with one guy, who looked like he had Spanish or Mexican heritage, for most of the night, but he was in way too good of shape for me to have any confidence in pursuing at all, and he never made a move.
I’m such a bad extrovert. 🙂