The Curse Of The Rabbits Foot
Today was a really hard day. If it was made into a movie it could be called The Curse Of The Rabbits Foot. But more about that later.
We woke up pretty early and went for another 22 minute run. We were both tired and still feeling the effects of the previous days run so we chilled out in the room, eating breakfast and watching Airplane II for about 45 minutes. Then it was down to business - we packed the car and set off on our errands. We drove into Tilton and made our way to an internet cafe. Bad idea. It seems that Tilton is just not ready for the technology necessary to run an internet cafe. The woman working there was Asian and did not speak any English. The router was not working, so we could not connect to their network from our notebooks and the only printer in the place was broken. We decided to get outta Dodge and went off in search of a coffee.
We ended up in a Starbucks that did NOT have free wi-fi access. You have to pay for a T-Mobile connection. We decided that we would ban all Starbucks for the rest of our trip.
After our coffee we left Tilton and drove to Manchester to pick up our rental car. To say that the staff in Dollar Rent-A-Car didn't have a clue would be far too generous. They were complete morons - thick as planks. But they did manage to give us a car - albeit a Dodge Pacifica which is far too much car for us and our needs. We drove south into Boston in both cars because we had to return the Caliber by 5:00. Of course it was already 4:00 and we hit bitter traffic trying to get into the city. Eventually we made it to the Dollar office in Logan and had no idea how much hassle was waiting for us...
While Paulo was gassing up the Caliber, I parked the Pacifica and went inside to explain our situation and make sure that if we were a few minutes late returning the car we would not be charged. The manager agreed to not charge us extra. I went back outside to move the car and realised that the key did not work, so I could not disable the alarm. With the car screeching loudly, I tried to find an employee to help me. The guy I found looked at me like I had asked him to give me $500 when I asked him for help. He opened the bonnet and said that I would have to disconnect the battery to stop the alarm. When I asked him if he could do that for me, he said no because he is not a mechanic. He went off to find the manager. Then it started to rain. I found Paulo to tell him what was going on and make sure all of our stuff was OK.
Two hours later we were still in the office listening to the most irritating woman on the planet tell how she was Irish because her surnames were O'Reilly and Callaghan. Her first name is Brenda, which she also told us is Irish. The amount of MacWannabe Irish people in Boston is unbelievable. Everyone thinks they are Irish because some relation from 6 generations ago may have come from Ireland or may have known someone who was Irish. Paulo is yet to call anyone on it but his tolerance is completely gone, so God help the next person who says it to him...
The problem with the car was finally sorted and in the end we got another Caliber! It seems that there are two fleets or cars in Dollar - a local fleet which can only be rented and driven within the same state and a national fleet which can be rented from anywhere and driven anywhere in the country. After searching everywhere, the manager found another Caliber for us. We weren't thrilled since it's a bit small but there was no way we were gonna spend another minute in that place. We ditched the "lucky" green rabbit's foot, blaming it for all the bitterness of the day and finally left the airport.
We were so Hank that we decided (on someones recommendation) to go into East Bahston for a bite. We ate in an Italian place called Jevelis that wasn't great but we figured that the longer we drove around and looked for somewhere the greater the chances we would be robbed or car jacked. Plus, the Red Sox game had already started.
We left the restaurant and made our way to the hostel, which to our delight was in a really posh neighborhood in Beacon Hill, next to Boston University and across the street from Fenway. We legged it over to Brookline Avenue in time to make the bottom of the 4th inning. We settled into a bar called Game On and watched the Sox blow it, losing 9-4. The bar had a great atmosphere (during the game) and about 15 TV screens. We were drinking Sam Adams Summer Ale but after a few decided that it wasn't the Mae West. Feeling a bit dejected, we left the bar and walked around Fenway. The streets were heaving and we made it around to Gate D to see all the Sox players driving away in their Hummers, Range Rovers and Cadillac Jeeps decked out to the BeJaysus.
Most bars around the ball park were playing sheeite music and charging a cover so we ducked into Bill's Bar for a night cap and then went back to the room, knackered after a very stressful day.
Quote of the day:
Brenda (Dollar Rent-A-Car) - "Oh, you two guys were in here the other day. I heard about you. You are the Irish guys! Yeah, I'm Irish too. My last names are O'Reilly and Callaghan. Everyone says that I'm the postman's daughter. Even though, I look Italian, I'm actually Irish. My first name is Brenda, which everyone knows is also Irish."
Paulo and I looked at each other unimpressed, shaking our heads and not even knowing where to begin...