Andrew and I decided to check out the Sheraton hotel where we
planned to meet the bus the following night, just to make sure it would all
work. No sooner had we entered the lobby when we started seeing quite a few
nuns. My first thought was that we'd somehow screwed up the date for the crawl
and my heart sank. It was immediately obvious however that what we were
encountering were real nuns. They were in town for a convention...all from
Puerto Rico as it turned out, all in traditional habits, and all speaking
Spanish.
My pal and I settled in with a beer, and chuckled about what
might have happened if the crawl and the convention had actually coincided. We
pictured the Puerto Rican nuns getting on the bus along with our gang, and
ending up at some crazy bar instead of a Vesper service at the
Cathedral.
Arriving at the hotel the next night was quite an
experience...just watching the nuns coming out of the parking garage and heading
straight to the hotel bar for a bracer...a little liquid courage. Since this was
about our fourth nun crawl, the hotel staff was somewhat familiar with us, and
the guests got into the swing of things...taking pictures and having fun with
the nuns. After about 30 minutes I assumed my duties as Mother Superior, blew my
whistle, and lined up the convent. We paraded (processed) up the stairs and
around the balcony singing Hail Holy Queen. This years bus driver was caught a
bit off guard..but soon began to bless herself as each of us boarded, and thus
assured herself of a good tip from the sisters.
Andrew and I had created the itinerary which this year
included a German beer garden, a charity bingo at a synagogue, a gay bar, and a
church that had been transformed into a bar/restaurant. To say that people were
surprised when we swarmed through the doors is an understatement....maybe shock
and awe would be a better description. When we entered the former church and
attempted to march up the center aisle singing, we were halted in our tracks by
the maitre d' who pointed his finger at me and said "OUT !"....when I asked why,
he responded that "we've had enough protests here about what we've done with
this church"...I politely pointed out that we were simply there for a
drink.
The poor guy just stood there for a minute, and then said
"oh...ok".
Realizing that this pack of nuns might well be angelic in
appearance, they would also be as hungry as field hands by the time we got
rolling, we always plan a stop somewhere for dinner. One year we stopped at THE
OLD COUNTRY BUFFET...where the patrons almost choked on their chicken wings when
fifty some tipsy nuns charged the joint. We got a rousing welcome another year
at the ORIGINAL HOT DOG in Oakland.
While I'm of course responsible to use my whistle to keep
control of the group, our friend George is always the " prefect of discipline"
and he does a lousy job every time. With Andrew in charge of entertainment on
the bus, he leads the singing, but also brings jello shots..which tend to excite
the sisters way too much.
The people we run into on one of these crazy nights really
enjoy the spectacle. I guess at first they're not really sure just what's going
on, but very quickly catch the drift. We spread a lot of good cheer, and
probably give a lot of people something to talk about when they get home. This
year as the bus dropped us off back at the hotel I walked past a slightly drunk
young woman who was standing by the hotel entrance. She was watching us all head
for the parking lot and I heard her say " Jesus...they're EVERYWHERE !
"
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