I had some time to kill the other day and decided to go for a walk around the Commons and Newbury Street. As I left the Commons I decided I wanted a coffee so I started my venture up Boylston to look for a Dunks. I had to pass about 324 Starbucks before I finally got to a Dunks. I refuse to go to Starbucks (or "The Bucks" as some like to call it) because you can't order a just a regular coffee flavored coffee without the little shit behind the counter looking at you like you just dope slapped his 80 year-old grandmother in the mouth.
The walk up Boylston was quite interesting...
I ran into some protesters outside of the Bank of America. They were protesting the bank because it was foreclosing on homes and ... ok, I gotta be honest and say I don't really know why the hell they were protesting but they were really pissed off at the bank.
It was right then that I remembered that back in 1989ish this same bank had repossessed my truck, the bastards! (granted I WAS behind in my payments, but still) So I decided I too was REALLY pissed off at this bank and I jumped in line and walked the protest walk for a few loops, chanting something that I can't remember. After about 15 minutes (honestly it was more like 2 minutes) I remembered my original mission of finding a Dunks, so it was out of the circle and down the street I went. Yeah, I guess I'm not a real dedicated protester ... but then again it's hard to protest with A.D.D. It goes like this - "Hell no we won't ... hey look a grasshopper".
Off to find a Dunks I went, and find one I did. Out in front of the Dunks was this scrubby looking lady with long stringy hair and 2 teeth in her mouth. She was opening the door for people as they went in and out ... in training for the Taj I think. As I was walking in she started talking to this guy that was coming out, why he actually stopped and engaged her I'm not sure but it didn't end well for him. When I came walking out the scrubby, stringy haired lady who, just moments before, was opening doors for people was now screaming at the fore mentioned patron of Dunks. Now I hate to miss a good show so I had to slip to the side so I could kick back and watch whatever form of mayhem was about to unfold before my very eyes ... right here on Boylston street.
TALE OF THE TAPE ... a 5'2" meth junky with a mouth on her that would make Lisa Lampinelli blush ... Up against some wingtip wearing, Republican looking, "I'm-better-than-you" smug-type asshole. I put all my money on Methy Martha ... she was pissed.
To be honest I have NO idea what she was yelling, she wasn't even making sense, but she was giving it her all and it was at the top of her lungs - even the guy playing the plastic Tupperware bowls on the corner stopped playing to have a looksy.
Wingtip Willy is now just trying to get away but Methy Martha isn't having any of it ... she's right in tow! Now we have a traveling road show! I stroll along, far enough behind so Methy Marths doesn't change her focus to me but close enough so I won't miss a minute of the action ... this is getting good! Wingtip is now on his cell, Methy is ranting and raving about ostriches and pineapples (told ya she wasn't making sense). And me? I'm sipping coffee taking it all in! I'm not sure who the buzz-killer was, but someone called the cops. They role up and my free traveling road show comes to an abrupt end just as quick as it started. You think Wingtip Willy will talk to any more "Dunkin Doormen"?
I walked away finishing my coffee and thinking to myself "Geesh, if only Methy Martha had made it one more block. The protesters could have used her vocal ability".
too funny
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