It’s been a while since I reported on that unique brand of entertainment available only from my apartment’s window that I call “McDonald’s Parking Lot Theatre.” Tonight’s performer wasn’t human, but an automaton of lumbering seventies exuberance and existentialist horror.
Today, the weather had finally begun to take on spring-like attributes here in Boston. The past few days have been delightfully cool, with no hint of winter. Today was especially delightful: dry, blue and as sunny as a four-year-old in a candy shop. Workmen continue to feverishly finish up the new deck of Fenway park before opening day (in a week or so). Even now as I write this, the large, UFO-like lights of the park shine through my bedroom windows.
At some point this evening, the relentless grind of dance music began wafting through my apartment. It’s the city. It’s a warm night. That sort of thing is to be expected. But the music persisted. Was it coming from the park? I moved to investigate.
Although the jumbotron was active, it didn’t appear that there was a formal
event at the park (sadly, I can tell the difference). I looked down in the
parking lot of McDonald’s and to my horror, I saw a white metal contraption,
filthy with lurid lights, flashing and beguiling. It was like a tour bus of
familiar design seen throughout Boston during the day, but this one was
festooned with blinky lights and a thrumming subwoofer pounding out dance
music to its unseen and sullen passenagers.
The driver left the mobile party in the parking lot while he got a shake or something inside. The delay was long enough for me to get this picture and then the party bus moved on. Fear! Fear and loathing in the streets of Boston! Ai!
I will attempt to remember to grab the camera when I next see the stretch SUVs so popular for bachelorette parties.