Chapter 30: Folding Tables (9/21)
Language Warning
Our new Southie residents are on the back porch train now, and they need somewhere to sit, somewhere to put their drinks, and somewhere to play Quarters.
And somewhere to … have sex.
We don’t have much patio furniture but it’s all gone now—even the cheap folding tables. One group of young men were eyeing our sole six-piece $450 set and bought it right then and there.
Later that Saturday I was going by a party after work, a party that was on a large balcony notorious to be a party house, as it overlooks Perkins Square and is prime-time people watching for St Patrick’s day—and every other weekend.
College football was kinda back so they had clearly been out drinking all day and rooting for, (I’m going to guess) Ohio State.
Some of these party balconies were up on Telegraph hill (one of the few hills in Boston) so you could hear “Back Porch” or some other “jerky” New Country song, blaring and echoing down to my street.
This time, as I turned the corner to go home, I could hear some chanting coming from one of the party spots: really guttural and very loud.
Two words and a pause, two words and a pause.
Over and over.
After, a few seconds I could make it out from the echo.
They were chanting—I kid you not: “F---! Her! F---! Her! F---! Her! F---! Her!” …
Maybe closing the churches wasn’t such a good idea after all.
Addendum: The thought of moving was now foremost in my mind, as not only had I come to understand the need to re-introduce religion into my life, but this place was becoming more and more downright evil. This latest event was just another sign from Someone to tell me to get out while I still could.
Oh and also now Trump had held his first-ever post “COVID” campaign rally in Tulsa, Oklahoma, so that was interesting. It was held in June, just three months after this “pandemic” officially begun.
So clearly, the people of that city were unafraid.
So I was more and more intrigued by the prospect every day.
Next week, I will provide the lightening bolt that came from God.
