At least we know why now

Kris' parents and I went to Mike P.'s welcome barbeque directly from the airport. I met Mike P.'s bride, Rachel, her family and various friends. Lots and lots of people, making the event overwhelming, though having vegetables at the dinner was really really refreshing. Yay, cole slaw and lightly vinegared cucumbers!

We left the barbeque relatively early, around 10 pm, to drive by hotel number one to pick up Kris' clothes. Before we knew what was going on hotel-wise, Kris made reservations at an inexpensive hotel a few towns over from a more expensive hotel where many of the wedding guests were staying.

Kris had crashed in the inexpensive, what am I saying, the cheap-ass hotel when he first arrived in Boston, and hadn't been back. So, when I arrived, he was in the clothes he had been in for the last 28 hours, through sleep, meals, a baseball game, a bachelor party and two trips to the side of the road to puke. Or something like that.

So, we drove to the cheap-ass hotel to check him out of the hotel and gather his clothes, not necessarily in that order.

Getting there was a problem.

With directions that seemed straight-forward, we went out to the cheap-ass hotel. We managed three mis-turns, getting lost, making U-turns. The maps Kris had were woefully unhelpful and detail-less, and we managed to tour a dozen different routes along the way.

The driving experience was completely on par for the day. The drive to the barbeque involved driving 4 miles through bad traffic to find out a bridge was out, and we had to backtrack along a road where, if the road workers had just put up a big detour sign telling us to turn left instead of right for the detour instead of letting us drive 8 miles out of the way and wasting a half hour each, we would have been way less frustrated.

Well, Kris and I had the same experience, driving along roads that were poorly marked: either not marked at all or marked with signs that were 30° off where we turned 75° to the right instead of 45° to the right and ended up driving off in the complete wrong direction.

"I think kids steal signs and put them up on other streets just for fun," was a Kris comment.

"I think they just steal them."

After driving for about 90 minutes to go 8 miles, we concluded the reason why Boston drivers suck, is because they're all frustrated that they, too, can't figure out how to get anywhere, and take out their frustration on the other drivers.

That, and Massachusetts is a no-fault state.