We left Whitefield in the morning to make our way down to Portland in a very meticulously planned day. The first stop was 45 minutes down Route 1 in Brunswick, to see the refurbished art museum at Bowdoin College.
(I guess, technically, the first stop was somewhere on Route 218, when a duck crossing the road forced Casey to pause. "It looks like it's carrying something," I said. But Casey noticed first: "No!" she said. "Those are ducklings! I just made way for ducklings!")
After visiting the museum and a few other campus buildings, we had lunch in Brunswick and then departed for Freeport in an effort to boost the economy at the L.L. Bean Factory Outlet and flagship store, plus a quick look at the J. Crew outlet that resulted in my purchase of a linen suit. Bring on the August weddings now, bitches!
We arrived in Portland a little after 4 p.m., checked into the Eastland Park Hotel and soon made our way to Hadlock Field for a minor league ballgame. (I won't bore you with the details, but if you're interested, apparate here.)
With first pitch at 6:05 p.m., we were out of there by 8:30 and on our way down to J's Oyster Bar on the waterfront for a late snack. In what seemed like a bit of New England hospitality, we were chauffeured there by a hotel bellboy. When Casey asked at the front desk if they could call a cab for us, the woman said, "I can take you." At first I took her literally, thinking she was about to finish her shift and would drive us down there herself. What she meant was that she'd check to see if one of the drivers was available, and he was. He took us down there and, after Casey called the desk when we were finished, he came back to pick us up. I tipped him five bucks each time, figuring that was both sufficient enough for him and still a bit of a discount for us had we taken a cab, which would've been fare plus tip. And he deserved it, having chosen to go to school at Vanderbilt instead of following his siblings to Boston College.
Lou Gehrig in Asbury Park
10 years ago
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