I'd say my evening started with a phone call, but I don't think that's really true. Not at all. Truthfully, it started with re-heated dinner and a couple of glasses of wine. I had warmed up some leftover Indian food in the microwave, poured myself one, and then two glasses of white wine, and had settled in with my bed trousers and a few re-runs on Hulu. It started as an evening of recycled goods - both my dinner and my entertainment - anxious for a second chance.
I knew the phone would ring and I knew it would be Jags, in search of some pre-birthday celebratory drinks. It was a Saturday night and as an aspiring hipster, I was doing a piss-poor job of keeping on top of all things under-the-radar-cool. There's no reason for me to be lounging in my pajamas and watching re-runs.
Since I've been in Philadelphia, I realize that I've not REALLY been in Philadelphia. My lack of writing could be a demonstration of this, but I'll continue to convince myself that I've been too busy experiencing life to write about it.
This is only partially true.
Two weeks ago,the lovely nicewilliams made the hike down to Philadelphia from North Jersey for a Saturday visit. She may have been expecting Camelot (of course, based on all of my colorful and flawless descriptions of Philly), but unfortunately the rain does often fall here before sun down. It rained all day and I was concerned that our plans to visit the Italian Market in South Philly would be thwarted. I felt like my great little city, New Jersey's best kept secret (sort of) would not measure up to the expectations that I had established in her mind. I want Philly to be great (by the way, as it happens, Philly is pretty great).
I've been breaking off the city in small chunks, eating them one at a time. The Philadelphia Museum of Art, Rittenhouse Square, Johnny Brenda's, First Friday, Second Thursday, South Street, The West Philly Orchestra, The World Series, hell - even Green Man made an appearance. There have been some wildly entertaining experiences and they all equal up to one conclusion: I love this city. I really do.
The Wednesday night that the Phillies took the Championship, sending the Rays back to Tampa with heads hung low, I saw a passionate side of Philly that I knew existed but hadn't experienced quite yet. I also discovered that I would never want to get on a Philadelphian's bad side.
So I guess what I'm trying to say is: come down and visit me. I'll take you around. Oh, and the beer is cheap here and flows like the River Thames; of this, I can absolutely assure you.
