It was the Tuesday before Thanksgiving. Holiday muzak blared while grumpy holiday travelers like me sat in the airport lounge waiting to board their plane. I planned to spend the Thanksgiving weekend with my best friend in Boston. There was only another month to go before my internship and the studies program ended, and I was ready for some serious R&R. I stuck my nose in a romance, determined to ignore the chaos.

An announcement over the loudspeaker caught my attention. “If anyone is willing to forego this flight, we will give you a voucher for a flight tomorrow morning to anywhere in the United States,” the ticket agent said. Boy I was tempted. I could fly back to California to see my boyfriend and family. No cold, crappy weather. My mommy would do my laundry for me. But Des was expecting me and I had never been to Boston before. I would just have to suck it up for another month before going back to CA. I eventually boarded and endured an uneventful flight. Des met me at the gate and we squealed happily as we hugged each other and jumped around. “You look great!” she enthused. “So do you!” I said. We had been best friends since grade school. Now she went to Harvard and I only got to see her once a year. We took the T (Boston’s subway system, which would never measure up to the Metro, I thought snarkily) back to Cambridge.

We walked through Harvard Yard on our way to her dorm. Pathways crisscrossed the Yard amidst the slender trees. The Yard itself was surrounded by a group of red-hued buildings. Students were hurrying to and fro while the evening twilight advanced. “Behold Dunster, beacon of truth and light,” Des intoned solemnly as we approached her dorm. I raised my eyebrow at her. “What in the hell are you talking about?” I asked. “Dunster is the name of my house (aka dorm),” she explained, “I always say that when I approach its greatness.” I suppose it could have been great, in a Des-ian sort of way. I patted Des on the head. “Whatever you say, dear.” I told her.

She led me up to her room and I could only gasp in wonder as I stepped inside. I was used to dorms being a grey 8x10 sardine can with four people packed in. Her dorm room was actually a suite! Des and her roommate each had their own bedroom. There was a common living area with a functional fireplace. Wow. The room had been tastefully decorated, with Monet prints gracing the walls. It was very homey. Des handed me a Boston guidebook. “What do you want to do?” she asked.

As I leafed through the pages, I noted the Aquarium with interest. There was also a mention of sweet beer that several restaurants served. A beer that was sweet? I was intrigued.

“Sweet Beer!” I declared, “I must investigate this phenomenon!”

Des rolled her eyes at me. “It figures,” she said laughingly.

We started to get ready. “How are we dressing tonight?” she asked. I reached into my luggage and pulled out the black leather pants I had purchased just for this trip. I grinned evilly as I showed it to her.

“So, we’re going slut-puppy tonight?” she said.

“No, its man killer! There is a difference, you know!” I sneered.

“Yeah, whatever,” she said.

We got dressed in record time. As we left her dorm, Des called out, “Dunster, beacon of truth and light!” I wondered if she was going to break into a show tune at any moment. I sighed. This was going to be an interesting evening.

~ To be continued…