On The Bus

You know what's really fun to do? Get on a Peter Pan bus with 64 of your favorite drunks friends, drive down to Citi Field in good ol' Flushing, Queens, New York, on a gorgeous, spectacular, perfect summer day, and watch the Mets play baseball.

'Course, a win would have been good.

You know what's also fun? Riding that Peter Pan bus home. With Tom Petty playing. And all bus windows remaining intact.

I know we've visited this bus trip before -- in 2008, in 2009 and in 2010. But whaddayagonnado? Not share a day like this?

I think not. So! Let's get to it.

Hello New York!

You look gorgeous.

Mistah, apparently, got invited to a tailgate cookout, while he had ostensibly gone back to get the camera. 

Pretty swanky cookout.

Angela and Chewie?

Representin'.

Bringing New London straight to Citi Field.

We had great seats, from where we could see the water.

My armpit, and Daniel Murphy, who was featured in the program, and who had just hit a single.

Please note the reflection of Mistah himself in MarkDowd's shades.

Our illustrious host.

Both our illustrious hosts, with Brux, another of the New York contingent.

18 million Phillies fans attended. Bastids.

Our little married friend.

Mary Lynn and Steve, fun-lovers at large.

Tracey's first bus trip. Mark Dowd's too.

"Throw me a t-shirt! 
Throw me a t-shirt! 
It's ITAM for Pete's sake!"

"Hi Ellie!"

Mr. Cobb, Mets Fan Extraordinaire.

I'm so proud of Mistah, a Red Sox fan, for taking this photo. 
1986, baby.

MB was a first-time bus-tripper too, New York side.

It's amazing, really, how much we all have to talk about.

I love when people keep score . . . 

. . . it's like a completely different language.

Johnny Slips was determined to buy daiquiris, after 
Jacquie's tale of triumph over woe last year:

I shyly approached the Rum Cart guy like a Dickensonian orphan with my empty cup. "Please, sir...." I sheepishly implored: “Do you have any mercy for someone whose drink got knocked over in the bathroom by mean scary brutes?”

MB with the best Mets shirt in the joint.

We had moments of cheering, but mostly the Good Guys 
couldn't do squat.

Row Z, baby.

Citi Field is a beautiful spot on this little planet of ours.

Someday I want to run in the Mr. Met Dash.

"Don't worry: we'll lock up."

See you next time, Citi Field.

These are not men we know, but we were so impressed by the sheer exuberance of their girth.

And then . . . the bus ride home.

Hsinny came back to visit us a lot, and for that we were immensely pleased.

Aw, Hsinny.

Mistah Schleckah was in rare form that day. He may have been my favorite friend on The Bus.

Although Mr. Lay's was pretty great too.

As was our old friend Mistah Schaeffer.

Awwwwww.

Another great day at the ballpark. See you next time, kids.