Weekend Wrap-up

Kate, Joe and I took the fast boat to Provincetown on Saturday. Apart from a little mishap that took place on the way to the pier, it was a lovely day.

We had planned to take our bikes, so Joe put the bike rack on the car, loaded our bikes (mine first, then his), and we set off to pick up Kate. We were all running a bit late, which meant that we didn’t notice when the extra weight of a third bike (Kate’s) on the rack caused the whole thing to sag just enough that the straps connecting the rack to the bottom of the car came loose. We sped through downtown Boston so as not to miss the ferry and we almost made it. We hit Congress Street (with the parking lot in sight), which has been under construction and didn’t pay attention to the big steel plates covering the road until it was too late. When the car went over the plates (which have the same effect as speed bumps), the rack lifted off the car (since it was no longer secured at the bottom) and came slamming down, launching Kate’s bike in the process. It flew through the air and landed about 30 feet back in the middle of the road. We’re lucky there was nobody behind us. The frame was bent, and the back tire ended up looking like something out of a Dali painting.

Joe’s front wheel got out of alignment as did both of mine (it’s a brand new bike!), but at least they were ridable, unlike Kate’s. We threw hers in the back of the station wagon (yes, we drive a station wagon) and hoofed it over to the boat with less than 5 minutes to spare. The lessons: don’t rush; and invest in a decent bike rack.

Fortunately, that was the only flaw in an otherwise perfect day. Kate said it was Nazar (the evil eye). I’m tempted to believe her in light of some recent developments, but that’s a whole other story.

Ptown is a lovely place. I’d call it utopian, but to do so would be classist and insensitive, since a place where real estate is as out of control as it is there and affordable housing in such short supply could hardly be considered utopian. Still, the accepting atmosphere, the diversity, the vibrant arts scene, the natural beauty of the shore—all of these make Ptown an idyllic spot for a quick getaway.

Our friend J, who was down attending a poetry workshop, met us at the dock. We had a nice breakfast, after which he gave us a little tour of the town’s East End, which has a different feel—quieter and simpler—than the West End. I also stopped into Ptown Bikes to get a new clamp for my seat, the old one having ended up somewhere on Congress Street.

Kate rented a bike for the day, and we set off for the beach after meeting J’s boyfriend (I hope it’s OK to say that) in town. Our destination was Herring Cove, which is on the bay side (as opposed to the open Atlantic). We chose a spot in that fuzzy region where the gay men start becoming naked gay men. I think Kate was the only woman for miles.

The water was warm, which surprised me. J said it had been that way all week. Kate, Joe and I swam the most. Joe and I got naked to swim. Everyone else kept their suits on. Joe and I couldn’t resist an opportunity to swim naked. We put our suits back on when we returned to our blanket. Actually, after my last swim, I kept my suit off and took a little naked nap, but it was only for about 30 minutes just before we packed up and left. Pretty much everyone we were with (except for J’s boyfriend) had seen me naked before, so it didn’t really matter to me.

We ended the day with cocktails at the Pied Bar, where the early evening Tea Dance was just getting under way. Our boat was scheduled to depart at 7:30pm. J wanted us to stay over, but we all had various things we needed to get done on Sunday, and it wasn’t clear if our Saturday evening return tickets would be honored on the Sunday 10am boat. In any event, we’ll be heading back before the summer’s over, and perhaps we’ll stay over next time.

Joe worked a little on Sunday. I took my bike and Kate’s to the place where I bought mine a few weeks back. They said they’d true up my wheels and look it over for any other damage. Kate’ll need two new wheels and the frame will need to be adjusted, but they said it was fixable.

Late Sunday afternoon, Joe and I took a ride to Duxbury beach. Because we didn’t arrive until almost 4pm, we found a parking space in the tiny lot at the bottom of the bridge that spans the inner bay separating the town from the beach. We attempted to swim, but the water was so much colder than at Ptown, which is odd, because they’re located almost directly across from each other, on opposite sides of Cape Cod Bay. I ended up napping while Joe took a walk.

We ended the weekend with dinner at what has become our favorite spot: Ten Tables in Jamaica Plain. Joe and I are both terribly smitten with Shane, the dining room manager. He’s so damn cute and charming. We had a delicious meal followed by a decadent dessert. Their desserts are very unusual and creative. Not commonplace or predictable at all. Truly imaginative desserts are sometimes difficult to find at Boston’s eateries.

I got a bit tipsy on the Riesling and tripped on the way out. Shane chuckled, but not in a mean way. I’m sure I’m not the first boy to stumble out of there after ogling him all night. And I probably won’t be the last.