cinco de mayo felicidad

In a downtown bar that we hadn’t been to since we were in our annoying early 20s, LBC and I realized that we shouldn’t have been surprised that the rest of the clientele were annoying early-twentysomethings. With its prime Boylston St location, the bar was clearly a destination of booze trains of all kinds, which easily fell into categories, like the Popped-collar Pub Crawl or the Diminutive Bachelorette Party.

When a group stumbled in wearing sombreros and shaking maracas, I thought Swine Flu Pub Crawl, but LBC reasoned that they were just getting an early jump on Cindo de Mayo. Touché

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