Annapolis is the "New" Hamptons

After weeks of working and working and working, I needed a weekend of intense relaxation outside of the great New York City. Thus, I hopped a Vamoose bus Friday morning at 7:30 am to leave my cares and financial agony behind. I slept. I listened to my ipod. I exchanged eager text messages with Angie over the philosophy of being.

Finally, the bus hit dry land, exploding with the anticipation everything the New Hamptons have to offer: booze, nature, boats, seafood and sunshine.

Thus beginith the greatest (and classiest) weekend ever begotten. I hit the dock with full enthusiasm, Angie picking me up in her G6 sailwagon and whisking me off to an Annapolis shopping center to eat amongst the locals at a darling little pizza joint. California Pizza Kitchen – perhaps you’ve heard of it, it’s famous around the country for the random stars who often appear to enjoy a slice and free themselves in the fresh Annapolis air.


A few hours later a picturesque couple, friends of Angie’s fiancé Ja, joined us for a delicious seafood fest on the dock across from our concert night cruiser. While enjoying our plates and plates of $3 happy hour cuisine and glasses and glasses of tequila based drinks, the gentleman tried to steal some food from a nature organization, got caught, and then miraculously made friends with them. They arrived back at our table with a few more plates of food and a handful of raffle tickets. We won a blow up palm tree and a blue laser light.

Just in time for our sunset cruise around the Chesapeake, Bryan and Bryan’s mom arrived, and the seven of us clzsaamored aboard the boat already three sheets to the wind. As the ever-faithful seventh wheel, I carried the palm tree around as my date and the Radio station sponsoring the festivity took some pictures of my awesome.

We also took a lot of photos. Bryan asked the musician for him to take a picture with his mom because, as Bryan put it, “Who can say no to a guy who brought his mom on a booze cruise.” And since you can’t stop the bum-rush, Angie and I took an “act like you’re a rapper” picture with him. He played along, bless his little heart.

After the boat docked around 11 pm,, we were in high spirits and needed another place to sip cocktails and have deep conversations. So the seven of us went from bar to bar in downtown New Hamptons to find somewhere with enough class. We ended up at a quaint bar, sitting at a table with Bryan’s mom sipping a Long Island Iced Tea and one of us giving chair dancing lessons to the ladies gracefully enjoying the dance floor. It was a lovely party.

But then Angie then decided it was time to go as the crowds around us were getting feisty and the boys had too much booze and thought dancing was a good idea. So we walked to the parking space at the Naval Academy and headed back to Angie’s apartment where we banged our head against guitar hero for a bit and Ja and Bryan split the most massive bag of baked French fries ever. I mean, that thing was big.

Day 2
Saturday was the day of the annual New Hamptons Crawfish boil, so after waking Bryan and Angie had to stroll down to the local grocery mart for fresh vegetables and garlic while the rest of us sipped tea and ate crumpets and bons bons at Grumpsias.

But then it started the infamous New Hamptons storming. Storming and storming and storming. With thunder and lightening and raindrops the size of baseballs. It looked like a tropical storm. But the Crawfish boil had to go on. Ja’s friends had left, leaving only Angie, Ja and I to battle our way to the boil in the ferocious weather.

The three of us arrived at the plantation neighboring Bryan’s to find groups of people huddled under the brightly colored tents. Bryan was in charge of boiling the crawfish and had just finished a batch as we walked up to the extravagant buffet table. Bryan flung the batch of crawfish, potatoes, garlic and tomatoes onto the table with all his might as the lines formed for the cuisine.

This routine went on for hours and hours until the sky finally cleared and people could wander out from under the tents, hands shielding their eyes from the hot New Hamptons sun. This is when I realized I am allergic to nature, as my entire body started to itch in crazy spasms. It had only taken a day for the layer of smog protecting my body dissipated and the nature could attack. All weekend I continued this battle, but I got through it with wine and good cheer.

Around 8 pm the games began. Game began. Female and male lines formed on opposite sides of the table and the plastic cups filled with quality beer, such as Yingling. And Miller Light. Or diet coke for the under 21. And under 15. And under 10. New Hamptons rigorously fights the prejudice of not allowing small children to play drinking games with intoxicated adults, being that they are usually much better and team VIPs.

Once the games had defeated the valiant New Hamptoniers most retired to study great works of literature.

Day 3
Angela likes to wake up while it is still dark to tend to her crops, and oft forgets that on the weekends normal humans enjoy sleeping in past 8 am. Especially after a long day of crawfish, organized games and literature studying.

Once Angela has texted us all awake and gathered our terse group of four, the debate for the day began. So many options await young people in the New Hamptons.

Sex in the City movie? Adamantly supported by the female group. Adamantly rejected by males. When suddenly Bryan chimed in from the left couch, sailing?!?

When in doubt, the perfect New Hamptons weekend always ends in a lazy day of sailing. And that is how we did it. With a bang. And being stranded on the Chesapeake with five people on a sailboat with an engine that wouldn’t work. I had to take the 8 pm bus instead of the 4 pm.
But all worth it. All so very worth it.