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lawnrrdSaturday morning Lauren and I took the train up to New Haven for the Harvard-Yale football game. I had gone to The Game a few times after I graduated, then I stopped going for a long time. And then two years ago, Lauren suggested that it would be a chance for her to see where I went to school. I ordered tickets, and we went and had a good time. We returned this year and had a blast.
Of course, we were both tired and a little hung over that morning. Friday night, Lauren had gone to, in essence, a black-tie drinking party. She came home drunk a little before 2 AM. As for me, I had planned on a quiet dinner by myself at a local restaurant, but wound up meeting some fun people at the bar and drinking a lot with them. That party eventually migrated to the East Village, and I didn't get home until just past 1.
But we somehow reached Grand Central in plenty of time for a 10 AM train. The train was unsurpringly crowded.
When we reached New Haven, we knew enough to dash for the cab stand. We made it near the front of the line, which instantly became insanely long. A woman we had never met before walked up to us and asked if we were going to the Yale Bowl. When we said we were, she asked if she could share our cab. We said yes.
During the short wait in the taxi line, we introduced ourselves. Her name was Sharon, and it shortly turned out that Sharon and my wife had about a dozen friends in common. That should surprise none of you. After we got into the cab, Sharon invited us along to a couple of tailgates, and we accepted. We soon discovered yet another mutual friend who would be at one of them.
The tailgates were great parties, impressing even my Penn-State-alumna wife. Every imaginable subgroup of students and alumni had a grill, a cooler, and loud music. Some organizations had large tents set up with tables, chairs, and catered food. Other groups had rented U-Haul trucks and were partying out of the open tailgates. And cars with grills and coolers stretched as far as the eye could see.
Our first stop was a tent set up by the company in charge of televising the game: that's right, an Ivy League football game was broadcast nationwide, in HDTV. They had good fried chicken. We stayed for maybe half an hour, chatting and meeting people, then went to the other tailgate. This was a less formal affair, involving two cars and a very, very high-end barbecue grill. There was lots of food, lots to drink, and even some pot that was so strong that even though I had only two hits, I am still hung over. At this second tailgate we ran into a guy whom Lauren used to work with.
We stayed at that second tailgate for a while, eating, drinking, and talking. We eventually decided to go in and watch some of the game. By the time we finally got inside, the second half was about to start.
The football was unremarkable, more so because Harvard won.
After the game, we walked around campus for a while. New Haven is less of a hole than it was when I was in school. Lauren and I had dinner at an excellent Turkish restaurant near campus. After dinner, we went right back to the train station for the trip home.
Today I have done the laundry.
Of course, we were both tired and a little hung over that morning. Friday night, Lauren had gone to, in essence, a black-tie drinking party. She came home drunk a little before 2 AM. As for me, I had planned on a quiet dinner by myself at a local restaurant, but wound up meeting some fun people at the bar and drinking a lot with them. That party eventually migrated to the East Village, and I didn't get home until just past 1.
But we somehow reached Grand Central in plenty of time for a 10 AM train. The train was unsurpringly crowded.
When we reached New Haven, we knew enough to dash for the cab stand. We made it near the front of the line, which instantly became insanely long. A woman we had never met before walked up to us and asked if we were going to the Yale Bowl. When we said we were, she asked if she could share our cab. We said yes.
During the short wait in the taxi line, we introduced ourselves. Her name was Sharon, and it shortly turned out that Sharon and my wife had about a dozen friends in common. That should surprise none of you. After we got into the cab, Sharon invited us along to a couple of tailgates, and we accepted. We soon discovered yet another mutual friend who would be at one of them.
The tailgates were great parties, impressing even my Penn-State-alumna wife. Every imaginable subgroup of students and alumni had a grill, a cooler, and loud music. Some organizations had large tents set up with tables, chairs, and catered food. Other groups had rented U-Haul trucks and were partying out of the open tailgates. And cars with grills and coolers stretched as far as the eye could see.
Our first stop was a tent set up by the company in charge of televising the game: that's right, an Ivy League football game was broadcast nationwide, in HDTV. They had good fried chicken. We stayed for maybe half an hour, chatting and meeting people, then went to the other tailgate. This was a less formal affair, involving two cars and a very, very high-end barbecue grill. There was lots of food, lots to drink, and even some pot that was so strong that even though I had only two hits, I am still hung over. At this second tailgate we ran into a guy whom Lauren used to work with.
We stayed at that second tailgate for a while, eating, drinking, and talking. We eventually decided to go in and watch some of the game. By the time we finally got inside, the second half was about to start.
The football was unremarkable, more so because Harvard won.
After the game, we walked around campus for a while. New Haven is less of a hole than it was when I was in school. Lauren and I had dinner at an excellent Turkish restaurant near campus. After dinner, we went right back to the train station for the trip home.
Today I have done the laundry.
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no subject
Date: 2003-11-24 04:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-24 06:29 pm (UTC)Actually, no, I had never met them before.
I'm not sure exactly how I do it. They sat down next to me, and it helped that they seemed cheerful and engaging. I suppose that one of them eventually said something that I was able to respond to with a witty one-liner.1 this led to further joking and talking. As we chatted, they mentioned things that I was able to turn into somewhat interesting questions about them. They bought me drinks, I bought them drinks, and before anyone knew it, they were asking me personal questions and I was answering them. Somewhere along the line it all started to feel kind of natural.
For the record, being admired for my ability to develop a rapport with people I have just met does violence to my self-image.
1Which is shocking, I know.