Reclusland

I’m currently in Boston (as you’d know if you followed me on twitter) on official office business.  Spent a little time earlier today exploring around the neighborhood hotel they’ve put me up in, since I can’t actually check in until my boss gets here (the reservation’s in his name, and his flight was delayed…).  I’d taken a taxi from the train station to the hotel, spent the ride talking with the driver about how badly his back and his knee were hurting, because he’d worked 25 hours the day before.  25 damn hours, in a car.

He talked about how hard it was for everyone right now, how a friend of his, who’d had a house and 3 kids in Catholic school, had had to sell the house when the mortgage went up, just to keep the kids in school.  Good choice, in my opinion; those kids’ll take care of him when he’s older if they get a good education.  Then again, maybe buy a cheaper house is you’re going to have three kids to put through Catholic school?  The cabby, Noel, kept hitting me with how bad it was for everyone, how everyone’s struggling just to get by, how a depression is coming.  How he prays everyday for God to help people.  Can’t say I disagreed with him at the time, can’t say I do now, either.

I mentioned maybe he could get a brace for his knee, maybe another for his back.  He just kind of shook his head, said he tries to exercise when he can.  I said yeah, that’s good for the body, gets everything kind of settled back into place.  I tell him family and friends are important, having people who can care about you when you need it.  He says I’m a good guy.  At the hotel he picks up another fare, waiting right at the hotel door as I step out the back door, so here’s hoping the guy gets a chance to rest tonight.  I haven’t pulled hours like that since college…

After I found out I couldn’t check in, I decided to hole up in the bar (free wifi? hey hey!) and get some dinner/ a few beers.  A few tables over a couple of women from the UK (judging by the accents) are having a conversation.  They’re upset that it’s raining, unsure what they’ll do on their vacation.  The waitress (who was kind enough to comp my beer when my diner took a little longer than usual, not at my request) is giving them some advice: “Put on a hat, go shopping, it really doesn’t get that bad around here.”  At the bar are a group who are clearly all business men, collored shirts and ties.  In the bathroom, washing my hands after diner, I hear them talking about their plans for the next day, all meetings and strategies.  Meanwhile the waitstaff at the bar are talking about The Hangover (apparently it’s very funny). I’m sitting here blogging in jeans, a T-shirt and a hoodie, waiting for the VP of Sales to show up so we can grab a beer.  Then tomorrow, off to meetings with the clients and back to NYC tomorrow afternoon.

This trip looks to be putting me into a really weird head space, and to push that even further, I’m posting some pictures I took a few months back at the Brooklyn Botanic Gardens.  Time, space, and society have little inherent meaning to me at this point.  And yet here I am, same as I ever was…  Anyway, without any further ado, pictures (sans photoshop, at speedbird’s recommendation):