When traveling cross country in 2009, a good GPS unit is essential. Unfortunately, our GPS has been temperamental, lazy, and a little dumb (it insists that Atlanta is not a city in Georgia). With all of these qualities, it is not surprising that we have named it after a particularly lackluster employee of the organization that we all worked for. Let’s say we named it Ron*. Ron now provides us with a common enemy when we are frustrated, so we don’t have to turn on each other so early in the trip. “Shut up, Ron!” and “Ron doesn’t know what he is talking about!” work better than getting short with Tes or Truong. Ron also provides an outlet for group bonding and decision-making tests. “Should we trust Ron here or just rely on the atlas?” Here are some notes from the first night in Baltimore.
We spent our first night at Truong’s brother An’s ridiculous three story apartment in the Canton neighborhood of Baltimore. Prior to this trip, I had only seen very poor parts of Baltimore and the touristy Inner Harbor area. Canton was very nice though…I could definitely see it being a fun place to live. There were lots of little bars and shops within a few blocks and it had a very neighborhood feel. An also had this fantastic roof top deck that overlooked the harbor that we ended up hanging out on for most of the night. It was great to see my friend Meaghan, too, even if it was just for a little while.
After dinner, we went to Camden Yards to watch the Orioles-Red Sox Game. As you might expect, there were at least as many Red Sox fans as Orioles fans in the stadium bringing back bad memories of Cubs-Astros games in Houston. At the game, the row of six (hopefully) college-aged fans directly in front of us was pretty entertaining. They showed up mid-way through the third inning, reeking of alcohol. Within ten minutes, one of the girls (we’ll call her Drunky) passes out with her head falling between Tes’s legs. All of her friends thought this was hilarious. The girl sitting next to Drunky (we’ll call her Mouthy) thought that the best course of action was to slap Drunky across the face. This was no stage slap…this was a slap that echoed throughout the stadium. Drunky grimaced a little, but hardly stirred. At this point, Truong accidentally spilled his beer on the girl sittirng in front of him (we’ll call her Bitchy). Truong apologized profusely, but the girl wouldn’t hear any of it. She kept insisting that he owed her a beer, even though it was his beer that he spilled. Truong smartly refused…this girl may have been over 19. After this all died down, Mouthy got excited and high-fived me after the Orioles made a good play (it couldn’t have been too good…the Sox won 4-0). After the high five, Mouthy complained that I shouldn’t have high-fived her broken hand. Seeing no bandages or visible bruises and remembering the fact that she high-fived me, I decided to humor her and ask how she “broke” it. I’ll let her explain: “I have no idea. After work the other night, I got went out and got wasted. When I woke up my hand really hurt. I told my mom and she yelled, ”You have to sue them for worker’s comp!”. So I may do that." Maybe I don’t miss college girls after all.
*definitely not what we named it
Songs I'm Listening To: Foundations - Kate Nash, Bad Education - Tilly and the Wall, & The Sun Ain't Shining No More - The Asteroids Galaxy Tour
Next Stops: Virginia, Asheville, Atlanta (already happened, will write about soon) Nashville tonight.
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