Charles River at sunset
I used to hate Boston. I didn’t have a valid reason for my animosity towards the city since I had only been once with my parents and another time in college to visit some friends, but still, I had no love for it. When I moved to NYC, I had more reason to hate Boston. Boston is the home of the Red Sox and the New England Patriots; NYC is the home of their archrivals, the Yankees and the Giants. I’m not a sports fan, but I felt it was my duty as a New Yorker to hate those Boston teams too. I also prefer Manhattan clam chowder over New England clam chowder. A final reason why I disliked Boston is because they seem to have their own alphabet that doesn’t include the letter “R” (for example, “Mahk, pahk the cah.”). The point is, I had no logical reason to dislike Boston but that didn’t stop me from hatin’.
One of my favorite Vietnamese meals is bò 7 món, translated as seven courses of beef for non-Vietnamese speakers or “BEEEEEEEEEEF!!!” for beef lovers.