We are the original college town.
We number somewhere over 200,000. We are Suffolk. BU. Northeastern. BC. Wentworth. Emerson. Simmons. Harvard. Emmanuel. UMass. AI. Tufts. MIT. MassArt. Berklee. Bentley. Lesley. More. We live in Back Bay, the North End, Southie , Beacon Hill, Kenmore Square, Allston, JP, Fenway, Eastie, Dorchesta', the North and South shores...
We club on Landsdowne and shop on Newbury. We don't go in the common alone at night. We don't walk the freedom trail or ever quack back at the duck tours when they pass. We parallel park like pros. We don't quite understand the alarming amount of tourists in our city. We don't "signal" when we turn. We don't pronounce our 'R's. We don't take the orange line if we can avoid it. We don't take the flowers from those crazy ladies downtown thinking they're free. We work hard. We play hard. We don't like the Yankees. At all.... (we yell "yankees suck!" at various public functions that have nothing to do with baseball.)
Our weekends start Thursday afternoons and sometimes include Tuesday nights. We are all 21 on nights out, whether our birth certificates confirm so or not. We are guys, girls, white, black, tall, short...smart (and on scholarships), dumb (and owing more than our life's worth in student loans...). We live for bars that don't card. New York Pizza at 1 am. Warm days on the common. Fire & Ice. Sunday Pats Games. Cambridge side Galleria, Copley Square and Downtown Crossing. Blizzards cancelling class. Hempfest. Keg parties in Allston. Crazy people on the T. Bums asking our broke asses for money. All-nighters in the dorms. Drunken cab rides. We're defined by the roommates we've had, the parties we've attended, the classes we've taken, the people we've kissed...those that we've missed. Nights of laughter. Nights of tears. Hellos, goodbyes, "I'm sorry"s, "I'll call you"s, "what's your major?"s and everything in between...but most of all, we are the friendships we've made and the bonds we've built. The people may fade, but the memories never will. We're just small kids in a big city...but we are Boston. Now, and always.
Walks through the common to class. Crazy nights at 150 and 10. Beirut tournaments at 131. "Take me to the motherfuck!ng statehouse." The Shang. Skipping class to go shopping downtown and Fanieul Hall. The Red Hat. Red Sox riots at 150. Spying on people through the atrium at 10. The Park Street T stop. Talking to everyone (including roommates three feet away) on AIM. Smoking with the EuroTrash infront of Sawyer. Talking to the security guards when drunk. Takeout from Podima, Venice and Takeout Taxi. Yelling sh!t at Emerson Radio when walking by on Tremont street. The foreign math department and needing a translator for class. Late night blunt walks on Beacon Hill. Being pains in the ass for Sisco and the rest of the dining hall crew. The lady at 10 that doesn't charge anyone... for... anything.
Pre-gaming and getting ready in the dorms. 7-11 on Tremont at all hours of the night. The mob of people in front of the elevators at Sawyer. The Purple Shamrock, The Point, and the other Fanuiel Hall Bars. Pool games in the dorm basement. Deciding Fenton is too far of a walk to class. Only attending the Student Organization things that advertise "FREE FOOD!!" in huge letters. Dozens of kids crammed in a Beacon Hill 2 bedroom with a beerball (our version of a frat-house kegger). Hunting for quarters and dropping $1.25 on laundry in the basement. Illegal appliances in the dorms. Presenting half-assed projects to CEOs as freshmen for Business O&L. The view from the 19th floor lounge (or the 18th floor quad!) at 10. Drunk walks up Temple Street. Losing student IDs every other day. The wind on Ashburton Place in the winter. The crazy nights all over the city and the lazy days on Beacon Hill. We are the Rams, the Sofuckers...the student's who have Boston's ritziest neighborhood as their playground. We're on top of the world (or at least a the hill))....and we like the view from here.