Friday night I visited Pittsburgh's meatmarket, aka Carson Street. I've been to plenty of such districts in other cities, but I'm still taken aback by the ridiculous inebriation, surfeit of fake-baked skin, and trashy behavior. I have to admit that I was partly guilty, as I was wearing black fishnets, something completely appropriate to wear to school or church in Ukraine but no longer stylish in the States.
While on Carson, I finally met a bus that I truly never want to ride: the Pittsburgh Party Bus. I'd probably slip on tequila-laced vomit while walking down the aisle. Oddly, my friend said these buses are now considered outdated by the hippest party animals, who have eschewed buses and taken to renting dump trucks for bar hopping en masse.
the author
Breadbasket
Ukrainian bus
Looking forward on the bus, you get to see all the driver's tacky decorations, and sometimes grim faces, too.
2 comments:
After reading your post, I'm becoming increasingly skeptical re: the accuracy of my dump truck statement.
I remember my roommate talking about dump truck parties several weeks ago. But, looking back, I think he might have been making a joke that I failed to pick up on. The more I think about it, the prospect of someone hauling a bunch of drunk partygoers around in a dump truck just doesn't seem likely.
Isn't the dump truck thing the "punchline" of a Dane Cook joke? Or was that about cement mixers? I don't remember.
Anyway. Rita. In my time in Pittsburgh, I have been stuck on Carson Street after hours once. It is a lovely place in the day and quite another place at night.
Your journal entry captured the sheer hell of my memory of waiting for the 54C to whisk me back to non-frat-party hell.
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