I guess we were never meant to be…

I am sorry, Bean Town. This is not how I expected things to turn out. I tried, I tried my best and I tried really hard to come to like you, but every time I turned to your cold embrace, I was greeted with indifference, bitterness and downright rudeness.

I could deal with indifference, I could even try to put up with bitterness, but rudeness is just a bit too much of a stretch. I think I deserve better than that. Hell, I have been treated much better than that. I think it’s time for me to come to terms with the fact that our relationship is ruined beyond repair. It’s time for me to move on…

See, I actually liked you in the beginning. I thought you were beautiful, I thought you were magnificent. I still think that you are… but you’re so tough to grow into, so tough to like. If you were a little bit friendlier, if you gave me something to work with, just a little, as much as a single smile…

“Dude, my anus is friendlier than Boston,” one of my friends from the Midwest once told me.

I’m not sure how true this is, since I never really had the desire to find out how friendly the said part of her body was, but I also know that to be more unfriendly than you are would require tremendous effort that no single human being is capable of. So I have to take her word in this regard.

Your attitude is unbearable, your customer service is horrible, your drivers are maniacs, your cabbies never miss a chance to rip me off, your pedestrians with their frozen, expressionless faces elbow their way through, hitting me left and right and heaven forbid if I happen to get lost in the maze of your streets, heaven forbid that I as much as dare to stop someone in an attempt to ask for directions and distract them from their already overly busy and important life…

“Excuse me, do you know how to get to X?”
"Yep.”
“Will you tell me then, please?”
“Nope.”

End of conversation.

Where are your manners, Bean Town? Is this how your mother raised you? I bet she’s real proud of how you turned out. You may consider yourself the center of the universe, but seriously, is it all that counts?

I tried really hard to like you. I even sympathize with the bitterness of your working class… But what gets to me more than anything is the hoards of over privileged “pretentious intellectual hipsters” of yours lurking around with bloated sense of importance and entitlement. You see, I never got that. You see, I never cared whether they went to Harvard (or MIT, or BU or Tufts for that matter). So I guess I never had a chance…

Maybe I never really had a chance to begin with…I refused to wear any signs that showed any affiliation with either you or any of your schools. I never had any appreciation for beer, let alone your infamous local brew. I never cared for baseball which, I was told, is an act of blasphemy worse than being a fan of the Yankees. And I never rejoiced or took part in any of the festivities after the Sox won the series. Maybe I never gave you a chance to begin with – after all, it’s hard to top my overflowing, overwhelmingly obsessive love for that other place that I kept going back to every time I had a free day or two…

I still think that you’re a beautiful town. I still think you have so much to offer. And I’m still hopelessly in love with your boys Matt Damon, Ryan Montebleau and Josh Ritter. But even that is not enough to overcome the great sense of disappointment and anguish that you inflicted upon me since I’ve come to know you.

Maybe I never had a chance with you. Maybe I never gave you a chance in the first place. But I’m more and more starting to realize that we simply weren’t meant to be… and I could not have been happier to leave.

P.S. And you know what, I’m actually glad that your unbeatable Patriots lost the Super bowl. And that they lost to no one else but the Giants. So take that, Bean Town. After all, there is only so much ego that one town can bear…

P.P.S. And for the record, I will never get your suit clad professionals walking around in tennis shoes (!!!), your women in coats and flip flops (my God!) and your crowds proudly carrying their scarlet “B”s on their caps and chests and backs like it is some kind of a divine badge.