The resulting transportation
This is a long conclusion.
We missed our bus back to Providence, and had to negotiate a transfer to a bus going to Boston, which we discovered is not easy. Luckily, the Greyhound representative was a pinnacle of customer service, helping everyone sort out their issues and save whatever money they could. He got us a bus that would arrive in Boston at 9PM, in time for the MBTA train at 10PM. Since we didn’t have time to sit at a restaurant, we called in and ordered our food 15 minutes before arriving. We probably ordered too much - eggplant basil, chinese broccoli, watercress pork soup, turnip cake, shrimp dumplings, a sweet/salty yellow sponge cake, and some red pepper clams. We ate some of the messier things at the station then boarded and set up the rest of our feast at a booth table. By the time most of it was gone we were extremely stuffed.
The next day was my flight from BOS to LAX. First, the silverline airport bus had a temporary delay, which only minorly worried me. I passed through security about an hour before boarding. The flight attendants lead us on board, then it went still for 30 minutes. I figured something must have been off, but continued carefully eating the ceasar salad I had bought for my dinner. At last they gave an announcement that there was an issue with the engine, and a mechanic would have to asses it. It took them a bit longer to finally excuse us all from the plane, as the assessing alone was going to take at least 2 hours, and if it needed fixing, who knew how long we’d have to wait. I wandered around the airport for a while, finding a bookstore to browse. I found Murakami’s Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, and started reading it but became so immersed I bought it, which I have never done at an airport bookstore.
I returned back to the gate, but was quickly notified that it would be another couple hours at least, and they would provide meal vouchers for all passengers. I checked my phone to watch the increasing delay time, stopping at 6:00AM the following day, then looked for the email meal voucher. It said I could spend $12 on board an AA flight. Great, I could eat a single airplane-price sandwich in return for being stuck in a terminal for 6 hours.
I freaked out a bit, since I had to do another thing I’d never done before. If I wanted to stay in Boston, I’d need a place to crash. I called Kay, and she reminded me that Shell and Conny lived there and might be able to host me. I figured I’d ask Shell, since she owed me a place to stay since her week-long crash at our dorm last summer. Turns out, as I had preconceptions about, only Jun was staying there, but Michael was visiting that night, so I continued to tell myself it would be fine. I admit I even felt a bit excited. I got in touch with Jun, who seemed surprised and gave me his location. After a delay of 20 minutes, I got to South Station then transferred to the Red Line to Alewife.
Jun & Michael were hanging out and skateboarding at Harvard Commons, which I found mildly amusing since neither of them went to Harvard, Jun was a drop out, and Michael was unemployed for the most part. But here we were, partially naive misfits surrounded by an obviously elite college town. Michael had also recently arrived, so we dropped our stuff off at the apartment and Michael took a well needed shower. We grabbed dinner and beer at a nearby store with some self-serve food options. On the way we checked out a bookstore (I found one title with something about a fish, but I can’t remember anything else so the memory is pretty useless) Michael bought a $40 textbook about physics, and Jun got 3 from different genres, and I didn’t buy any.
We ate outside, on the grass back at the Commons, and got bug bites all over our legs. I started getting cold and we went back to the apartment. I lay on the couch and messed around with some guitars, loving the satisfying confidence of the electric guitar. I tried reading a bit but got sleepy and indicated I’d like to sleep soon. First though, they wanted to test their abilities and try waterboarding each other in the bathtub. With one bending backwards over the tub, and a wet washcloth over their face, the other would pour a steady stream of water on their nose and mouth. They came out coughing and wet, and asked if I’d like to try; wanting to not be too surprised, I stood and smiled silently in response. I pretended to take photographs, and they joked that I was probably an actual spy, and therefore had already really experienced waterboarding torture. I enjoyed this idea, so I remained quiet.
Finally, they calmed down and Jun hugged me goodbye since he’d sleep in, and I curled up under my blanket and passed out.
