We arrived at the former West Roxbury School late that night.
It was pitch black and I parked on the street. John eventually had me move the car to a spot where we wouldn’t be hassled by parking officers, but when we finally settled into his couch, he offered us a beer.
Peggy was not yet 21, but that hardly factored into us saying no. He was giving us a place to stay pro bono. It was our first Couchsurfing expedition and we didn’t want to push his hospitality.
Still, he wanted to debrief us on our journey, so he sat down with us and brandished his beer before us. He had been drinking it before we got there, and I noticed first the floral decorations and color scheme of the bottle he was holding. I asked what he was drinking, and he simply said, “a Harpoon.”