| I was up at 7, and after a SSS, had a bowl of Honey Smacks and two slices of Portuguese sweet bread toast for breakfast. Aunt Annette fixed me two ham and cheese sandwiches and gave me a snack package of Fig Newtons and two Lorna Doone Shortbread Cookies “to go.”
She drove me back to Rhode Island Hospital, and I caught a cab over to the train station, retracing my steps of Monday. I liked knowing what to expect this time around. I asked the receptionist in the hospital lobby to call me a cab, and I had to laugh when after completing the call she said, “Yellow Cab. They’ll be here in about ten minutes.” No coffee cab? I thought. |
I arrived at the train station at around 8:50, and read while I waited for the 9:40 train to Boston to arrive. It did. On Track 2. And I boarded in time for the 9:40 departure.
A very heavyset man sat in the seat across from me, and at about the third stop, a woman sat there, too, with an empty seat between them. Not too long after that the man started snoring like crazy. Loudly. The girl was on her cell phone, and right in the middle of one message she was leaving, she said, “I’m sorry. I’m on the train, and the guy next to me is snoring.”
Arriving at South Station in Boston, I started up Summer Street toward Commonwealth Pier. It was a pretty straight-forward shot, but I paid careful attention as I walked so I could repeat a reverse path on Sunday, since I was going to walk back to the train station to catch the “T” stop that was near it to go back to the airport.
However, when I got to the World Trade Center, right next to which Commonwealth Pier is, there was a “T” stop there—the World Trade Center stop, and it noted: “Trains to Logan Airport and Downtown Boston.” Perfect. Now I won’t have to make the trek back to the South Street Station stop on Sunday, and I won’t have to take a $25 cab ride back to the airport. Life is good. Everything’s settled.
I picked up my reserved ticket for the ferry, and was not pleased when the first thing I saw when I walked up to the window was a sign that said: “Today’s Conditions: Rough Seas.” However, when she handed me my ticket, she said, “Right now the conditions are officially rough, but they’re not that bad and are expected to calm as the afternoon comes.”
I waited for about an hour, during which I ate those to most delicious ham sandwiches from Aunt Annette. At about ten minutes ’til, the boarding started for the ferry’s 1:00 departure.
The ferry had a good sized crowd on it, but it was not packed by any means. Sharing the seating and table area with me was a most beautiful, blond (not generally my type) somewhat of a surfer-looking-type kid, and his mother. I love when gay guys are as comfortable, and as close with, their family members to take them to P-Town with them.
The “seas” had indeed calmed down, and the high-speed ride to P-Town was uneventful in terms of seasickness. I worked for a short amount of time on my blog, and then read some more of The Road.
Arriving at the Provincetown marina, I walked up to the Aerie House, wheeling my luggage behind me.
Walking up Commercial Street, a lady stepped out and front of me, and then was startled when she heard my wheels rolling on the cobblestone sidewalk.
“It’s just me and my baggage,” I said. “Believe me, everybody walking up and down this street has some; it just so happens you can see mine.”
She laughed and let me pass on ahead of her.
I thought of my friend Steve and called him, leaving a message, “I’m walking up Commercial Street and looking for ‘the bahkah.'” He’s this guy who we’ve run into the last couple of times we’ve been up here. A cutie for sure, but a real mess. He was nowhere to be found this time.
For posterity: Steve was at the grand opening of some Super Walmart in Garner with his friend Sue, who’s an absolute hoot.
Nearing the Aerie House, I passed Snug Cottage, where a huge smile on my face appeared remembering my 2002 trip with Steve, Joe, and Will.
I checked in without incident. There were two things I’d forgotten about about this place: (1) That they had a hot tub (I don’t think I used it the last time), and (2) That they have two huge, totally sweet, black dogs about the place, which I just love.
I changed and walked down to The Boatslip for their infamous 4:00-7:00 Tea Dance. I’m quite sure that in 2006, the cover was $10, which I thought was totally outrageous. This year it was $5.00, which I approved of until my (house) bourbon and Diet Coke rang up at $7.50. Top shelf bourbon was $9 and $10 a piece. And I’m not talking big cups either—these are the same size cups that I get mine for $3.50 at Flex.
Fortunately for me, I’m not one that needs to drink at these type things, and I can nurse a drink if I want to. I bought two between 5:00 and 6:30. I spoke to no one, but did a lot of people-watching, and believe me, there were a lot of different kinds to watch.
On the way back to my B&B, I stopped at Spiritus Pizza, one of the most famous establishments in P-Town, and I had a slice of pepperoni pizza. Further up the road I stopped for a Linguica Roll, and finally at The Portuguese Bakery, where I bought a malassadas to eat later in the evening.
Once back, after checking with Robert via AIM, I took a 1.5-hour nap.
At about 9:40, I headed over to the combination of bars at the Crown & Anchor—the Wave Bar, where karaoke was going on, and the Paramount, a connecting bar where the dancing was going on.
When I first arrived, I listened to about three karaoke songs—all with phenomenal singers, and then moved my way out to the patio area connecting and behind both bars, as it was hot as hell in The Wave.
I spent a lot of time deciding if I wanted to drink—waffling back and forth between drinking $7.50 well drinks or $4 beers. Ultimately, I decided on one bottle of $4.00 water, and nursed that the two or so hours I was there.
At one point in the evening, I stepped way in the back behind the chairs, leaned on the fence that was there, and looked out into Providence Bay. The moon was shining beautifully on the water, in front of, and then widening out, behind the pier off to the right, and I followed the glow all the way up to the sky. Where. I. Found. A. Big. Glorious. Full. Moon.
As I took a snapshot of that scene, I thought about a lot of things:
- Of Robert and how he would have alerted me to the situation (re: the full moon) much earlier in the night.
- Thinking about New England: These are my roots. I hail from here.
- Thinking about Provincetown, specifically: These are my people. How heartwarming it is to be with people like yourself.
- I wish I had a painting of this scene right here, and then thought, “Paint me a Birmingham.” I then thought a picture of this scene would do, but I have no camera with me.
- Noticing that there were a lot of guys here with gray in their beards and in their temples, and then about my own mortality, and then my uncle’s.
- Trying to ignore the two leather guys, complete in their shirtless, and harnessed bodies, who had made their way up beside me and were working their way into a frenzy that needed to be taken elsewhere. Leather daddies.
Once back at my place, I nixed the idea of eating the totally greasy malassadas tonight, and hopped in the bed, where I finished The Road. I’m not sure what I think about that book, but it was a good read for the most part.