The prison bus stop. I dunno if, despite Mr Indemnity's assertions, that one loud conversation about prison makes a bus shelter the defacto "prison stop". We need a pattern of these conversations before we honor it with an official appellation, methinks. On the other hand, this is the perfect time to tell my favorite Central Square Cambridge story, so I shall.
There are certain blocks in Central Square which are fine, and some which are seedy, and others which are s.e.e.d.y, okay? Back when I worked for the Evil Massage place, they opened a brand new facility on one of the s.e.e.d.y. blocks. Opening a brand new facility when you are about to go bankrupt and steal all your employees' money and property is probably not a wise business decision, especially in a city that is glutted with massage therapy facilities, but the place was lovely on the inside at least. Well, the elevator was a little sketchy, but otherwise. One Sunday I was working and I had no clients scheduled till the last slot of the day, which meant sitting around for three or four hours, unpaid and frustrated. But at least the promise of making a commission and a tip at the end of the day kept me from being totally homicidal.
Except the woman's appointment time came and went and she didn't show. The receptionist called her to see if she was on her way and got her voicemail. Eventually the client calls back. Apparently she took the T into Central Square, came above ground and could not find the address. According to her, she was wandering about and there were homeless people everywhere, and she got freaked. So she turned around and went home.
"OH MY GOD," I, the receptionist, and the yoga person all said to each other in unison. "If she got to the homeless people, she must have been right outside. You find the homeless people, you're here!"
That really should have been in the brochure, I think.
And thus ends my favorite Central Square Cambridge story.
xoxo
6 comments:
As a Central Square resident, I will say that loitering homeless people describes a good 7 or 8 block stretch of Central Square. More if you count where these people go to dumpster dive.
She probably freaked when she realized, oh my god, I don't know which block in Central Square with crazy high loitering homeless people to go to!
Jean! A little birdie told me that you yourself are apparently totally irresistible to the homeless contingent :-), and that *if only* I would break down and go on facebook, I could read all the amusing anecdotes thereof.
I'm holding out for hearing them in person over beer.
Sorta makes one think of the directions to get to the Salem Petsmart. "Take a left at Tri-City, turn left at the first set of homeless workers, then bear right at the second set."
I do have sympathy; I do I do: especially when I think about joining them.
Oh, c'mon...isn't that supposed to be "turn left at the first set of undocumented Central Americans, then bear right at the second set"? :-)
Better. I stand corrected ;)
You know, if they don't want money from me, they want to hold me all night long. Can't win with them. I offer the contents of my building's dumpsters as a consolation prize.
We should get together for drinks soon!
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