Today I saw a guy in a blue suit screaming at another guy that he was a pussy and so were all of his pussy friends. They were waiting in line to get into Clery's, sometime around 5 p.m. No doubt he and his opponent (the pussy and his pussy friends) had been drinking all day, and I can only suspect that tempers were aflame because everyone were so anxious to get inside the bar and drink more.
As someone who did not have the day off and toiled away this sunny Monday in front of a computer, it was less than charming. How odd that drunk, belligerent guy looked beside the number clad runners in shorts who milled. A family with children and lawn chairs were also walking by, same time as me.
I hope everyone who was out drinking their livers off had fun today, but it certainly is an odd tradition: running, physical endurance, and health at one end of the spectrum, drinking and a whole different kind of physical endurance at the other.
Something tells me blue suit guy would have been one of those runners who pees or vomits all over himself as he goes. Of course, given his state at 5 pm, that may be happening by now anyway.
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Clery's is so weird. On paper, it's an okay bar, but I can't go there without it being filled with douchebags.
Strangely, however, I ended up there after drinking in Charlestown for most of the day back in '05. It must not have been that full, though, because I both got in right away around 6 *and* got a seat at the downstairs bar. Huh.
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