Marble-hoods

By Rosalie Tirella

A few days ago I needed to go into Providence. Yesterday I drove into Marblehead – for fun personal reasons, taking with me an old pal from the Green Island neighborhood (I’ve known him for 11 years).

A day off from InCity Times! A day off from Worcester!

Or so I thought. Truth be told, we promptly regressed – displayed our least winsome WUSTA ways – as soon as we skidded onto Marblehead soil.

Take:

1. We were at the Marblehead Public Library (I think it’s called the Abbot Library). I cleaned out the car from the road trip (I drove – thank goodness 128 North was not as crazy as it usually is). I gave him his paper bag.

He to me: What do I do with this?

Me to him: Throw it away when we enter the library.

A few minutes later I say: What did you do with your trash?

He to me: I stuffed it into the parking pole in the library parking lot.

He motioned to the (hollow) metal pole that we just passed. It’s a kind of barrier between parked cars and bushes.

Me to him: I purse my lips. I narrow my eyes as I attempt to “burn a hole” through his  ”attitude.”

But I was just as bad a few minutes before: I had asked an old man leaving the Marblehead  library: Where is the library parking lot?

He to me: Why don’t you double park in the street? The library parking lot is small.

Me to old library patron: NO THANK YOU! I want to park in the parking lot!

Then I zip right by the old guy, not waiting for him to move a little to the left so that he wouldn’t feel that uncomfortable feeling you experience when a car is within centimeters of crashing into your vital organs.

This was my way of telling the Marblehead library patron: Right, old guy! Like hell will you relegate me to second class status in your chi chi town! I can tell that you can tell I am not from here! I drive a beat up car! I look pretty ethnic – and there aren’t a lot of feisty Italian Americans in this neighborhood! You don’t  want us in your precious parking lot AND you are hinting that we only stay for a few minutes in your precious PUBLIC library – the briefer our stay, the better. Well, we are parking in your library lot! And we will fucking hang out here much longer than we intended to! Just to suck up your precious library parking spot. (the lot IS small – room for only 5 or 6 cars) Who cares?! We don’t!

Once out of the Marblehead Library (one hour later), mad as hell (I don’t even remember what I had been reading!), I drive around looking for this seafood restaurant that I love, in Old Town Marblehead, which is so historic with all the beautifully kept up teensy homes built circa 1700 – right next to the ocean – but kinda annoying if you are FREAKING STARVING and want to eat some big juicy scallops ASAP. We – or I – keep getting lost. How can you lose yourself on a piece of land the size of a freakin’ postage stamp, Rose?  Well, just keep driving in circles, asking people for directions and not really remembering what they tell you is a good way to keep from getting where you want to go. Both of us – my friend and I – so overwhelmed with all the complex directions: “You take a right at the …, then take another right at the …, then a quick left at … , hug the … . ” New England streets were meant for walking back then and while we could have parked (and walked to try to find the restaurant), we two working class folks – so used to walking and delivering stuff and WORKING OUR ARSES off all week – decide to get lazy here in Marblehead, on a beautiful sunny day, no less! When a walk would have been heavenly! WUSTA attitude to the nth degree!

So … We drive and drive in circles and bitch about the people giving us directions. They should just lead us there! I tell my friend. I could follow them in the car! I am sure we are 18 seconds away but we don’t know where it is! AURGH!!!

He to me: Can’t you remember where it is?!!

Me to him: No! All these beautiful white people and beautiful little shops look the same to me!

Then: Finally, after an hour – an hour!!!! – of driving (20 to 30 concentric circles!) polluting the hell out of our environs, we pretty much drive by the restaurant. That’s it! I scream.

You park! he yells to me in a very Worcester tone of voice. His hunger has made him mean.

I find a parking place on the street (amazing for Marblehead!). In between two Cadillac SUVs. True to Worcester form, after I pretty expertly parallel park may car between the two new gleaming vehicles, I check – double check – all the locks on my jalopy’s doors – and trunk! As if someone may want to steal it! I turn around and see some contractor dude doing some work inside the house across the teeny street. He is smiling at me. He thinks what I just did is nutso. I look at him, PISSED OFF. If he wants to come out here and start a fight, I will gladly finish it! I am ravenous!! Back off, asshole!

Once in the restaurant, I find my friend pigging out on the bread basket. Not waiting for me to sit down.  Sucking down the carbs.Very Worcester.

Save some for me!!! I yell. He shoots me a nasty look. Survival of the fittest here, folks!

We order and get our food (a  tad too quickly?). Then, without a drop of liquor in our bods, we get loud and crude. He begins to talk about his sex life. I mean really talk about it! He is a friend – I know his bad boy ways and they amuse me. I gamely jump in – and the four letter words fly freely! We are in a Green Island state of mind! We are having a great time! Really enjoying the soft porn he is BROADCASTING is this Marblehead restaurant. It is between lunch and dinner time. Not a lot of patrons. But ALL of them are staring at us, have turned to listen to Rose and her nasty pal. This only encourages us!

Best lines: He to me: What are all those boats doing in the water? Where are the people?

Me to him: Those are yaughts! People are at work now! They will play on them during the weekend. This is like a parking lot! Only it’s filled with water! And people park their boats here!

The men sitting a table or two away from us seemd impressed with my nautical prowess!

Yes! We Green Islanders can be so freakin’ aquatic!

Finally, we leave. My pal is feeling good. I am stuffed - eaten all these great scallops (they always taste SO SWEET when you eat them by the ocean!).

Once outdoors, I see the guys at the next table have followed us out. My pal, in a good mood, says: Where are you guys from? As I leave to get the car, they are chatting. One  guy says to my friend: California. I can only guess that they guessed we were from …

… WUSTA!