EPTOne Fall afternoon my friend Omar and I walked out of a gay sports bar. I'm not gay, but Omar is, and he liked the place, so there we had been. Pretty decent place. I believe the Patriots won that day.
Anyway, a European man and his two female companions, all bicyclists, approach us after we cross the street. He asked, "Pardon me, but do you know where I can find a gas station?"
"A gas station, " I replied, "What do you need a gas station for?"
"We need air for our tires."
"Oh... air for your tires! Listen, there's no need to go to a gas station. Boston is a very bicycle-friendly city and every bar has a bicycle pump on hand. Just go to that bar there and tell them you need to get filled." I point to the gay sports bar.
"Get... what?"
"Get filled. We never say 'get air.' Just go up to the bar and tell the man you need to get filled and you're in a hurry."
"Oh, thank you so much, sir. Thank you!" His two companions thank us as well. We go our separate ways and I turn around to see these three Europeans trying to bring their bicycles into a bar.
Omar never understood why I did what I did, though he did admit it was pretty funny. I wish I knew what happened inside the bar.
