My husband and I have not taken a vacation with or without our kids in a long time. When you have a child who has been in the hospital, the last thing you have time to plan is a vacation. But yesterday? Yesterday we vacationed. You may be imagining a tropical setting with umbrella drinks and hot pool boys everywhere (at least this is what I am imagining) but you’d be sorely mistaken. Yesterday we vacationed in Worcester. Worcester, MA to be exact. The city that no one outside of New England knows how to pronounce. The city that invokes the ugghh reaction when you tell people you are actually going there. I apologize to the people of Worcester for this reaction many of us have because it’s really not your fault and as I found out yesterday, you do have some charms although they can be hard to find.
You may find yourself asking, Amy, why did you go to Worcester? And why is this considered a vacation? And what did you do in Worcester for an entire day? Well my friends, let me tell you…
There is this thing in the world called Digifest. If you do not know about Digifest and you have a pre-adolescent or adolescent girl you are the luckiest bastard I know. Digifest is this event where kids who are “famous” on youtube and vine come and perform to thousands of screaming girls who are wearing shorts short enough for their butt cheeks to stick out all over the place. No really, my husband at one point said “I’ve never seen this much ass in my life and this is not a good thing”. The girls are fucking crazy, I mean loco at these things. Any little, tiny bit of rational thought in their undersized brains goes right out the window. They will literally stand in line for HOURS to catch a glimpse of these boys who are “famous” but who nobody over the age of 17 gives a shit about. And when they see them? It is bedlam. The screaming, the crying, the fainting is just a taste of the crazy. They run across busy roads blinded by thoughts of meeting and hugging these boys whose only real talent is having a million followers on social media. And the ticket prices? Hold onto your fucking panties…upwards of 200-300 dollars to stand in line for hours for a chance to meet these children and snap a photo. And then stand in line all over again. With thousands of screaming and crying girls. So this is why we went to Worcester on Sunday for the entire day; so we could stalk our daughter as she stood in line, cried at missed opportunities for meeting her internet famous boy toys and walked the streets like a wild child. Fun right?
Well my husband and I decided that we needed a vacation and it might as well be in Worcester while we were there. As we held our ears walking passed the hormonally challenged girls screeching and yelling, we happened to find this little gem of a restaurant called Armsby Abby. The reason we targeted this particular restaurant is because I happened to spot the most glorious bloody mary on a table from across the street. It was calling my name and I literally ran towards it blindly like the teenage girls were doing after the boys. This was my internet famous boy; a tall glass with vodka, blood mary mix and all the proper accompaniments, i.e. bacon.
We got a table outside, because we decided we were on vacation. When we sat down my husband said to me “Wow what a beautiful view of the water”. There is no fucking water in Worcester, it’s in the goddamn middle of the state. And hey, 2 bloody mary’s later, the water looked spectacular. I stopped hearing the screaming girls. My husband and I held hands and laughed. It was starting to be a great vacation. In Worcester. We sat outside for approximately 3 hours and ate the most delicious mushroom and asparagus fritters, macaroni and cheese and quiche I have ever tasted. We both got a sunburn. It was like we were in Aruba but not really. We were still in Worcester. And thousands of screaming teenagers were approximately 500 yards away. But dammit we were determined to make it work.
Once the kids were more or less settled inside the venue, my husband and I decided we should get up from our table before we spent all of our savings on food and drinks and go see a movie. We decided that we both wanted to see California crumble to the ground and settled on San Andreas. There was an hour before the movie started so we decided to take a nap. In the car. Because we didn’t have a hotel on our vacation. So anyway, we take our nap and go into the movie and within approximately 5 minutes we know we have made the worst mistake of our vacation and possibly our lives. We will never get those 2 hours back. Never. We are convinced that the teenage girls back at the Palladium wrote the script just to fuck with us. And that the actors were all taken over by the internet famous boys. We felt duped. We felt taken advantage of. We felt sick really.
But the best part was getting a call in the middle of the catastrophe of a movie from said daughter at the venue where she was hysterically crying and hyperventilating because they canceled the meet and greets and what was she going to do and omg she has to stay over in their hotel that night so she can meet them. It made California sinking into the Ocean look like a little rumble. We held her off for a bit because we had to see the part of the movie where the Rock vindicated himself and saved lots of people but she called again. We made the executive decision to leave San Andreas to it’s own and save our own daughter from her internal quake.
As we walked by the venue there was carnage everywhere. Empty water bottles lined the streets, girls were sitting on the ground, tears running down their faces, some of them were rocking. There were parents angrily yelling at anyone who would listen to them about the fact that their precious girls weren’t going to meet these bunch of weirdo boys and the police looked like they wanted to taser everyone. The desperation and despair was so thick in the air, it was palpable. It looked like an apocalypse. I was all ready if any of the kids started turning into zombies, but this did not happen. Instead we found our daughter in the lobby of the hotel, makeup running down her face, hugging some boy and then posing for a picture. Once we pretty much determined all was as it should be, we moseyed on over to a restaurant that really stood out as a place we had to go while on vacation in Worcester, Pizzeria Uno. There we sat at the bar with other parents who looked as travel worn as we did. We met Don who was there with his 13 year old daughter and was 8 beers in even though he had to drive 2 hours to get back home. He talked of guns and religion and capitalism and I thought to myself, “This is the highlight of Worcester”. Thankfully the phone rang and the kid was ready around 9:30 and thus ended our vacation in Worcester.
I know you’re all highly jealous, but you too can go to Worcester. And you may even live to tell about it.