Beantown meaning Boston, for those of you not in the know.
Every single time I drive into the city, the Prudential and the John Hancock tower loom in the sky and I feel like i'm truly coming home. From the crowded D line subway, to the construction at Copley, and the mad rush during baseball season, I secretly (and sometimes not so secretly) relish every little bit of it. So, just ignore me the next time I glare at you insane baseball fans sending up a "Yankees suck!" chant on the way home from a Red Sox/Bluejays game. Ignore my sneers, obnoxious frat boys checking me out and wolf whistling on Comm Ave. Rejoice in my eye roll, woman cutting me in line at the Boylston Street Trader Joe's during the after-work rush.
But you know what, guy in the electric wheelchair begging for change in front of Back Bay station...? I'm onto you. I saw you getting into the driver's seat of a Honda Civic not too long ago. Was this part of the "miracle" you talked about on your cardboard sign? Wow! If so, I'm a believer!
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