It all started off innocently enough. Stouts and tasty jambalaya at Petra and Eliot's apartment. Then about 10 of us took the T downtown, and the fun started. All the Irish bars in the area had lines of people waiting outside in freezing temperatures to pay upwards of $40 to walk inside and proceed to pay more money for drinks (the picture at left shows us debating the merits of collectively spending $400 to walk into a bar). We opted to find a different bar, the Living Room, which is more of a stock-broker type place that seemed to play as much (read: none) Irish music as we heard from the Irish bars downtown, only it was much less crowded and (arguably) more enjoyable. 
The bar closed at 1; we left to catch a taxi. We walked all over the area trying to find one, without any luck. So, rather than walk 45 minutes in the cold, we opted to hide out, Lee-Harvey-Oswald-like, in a nearby theatre. A couple employees hassled us a little bit, and initially let us stay after we pleaded that we couldn't get a taxi, even after calling around for one. One even gave us a package of M&Ms as we were also starving. Eventually we were thrown out, and went down the street to a pizza place, happy to see a place open at 3AM. We devoured two large pies in a few minutes. Then, strangely, we walked outside and caught two taxis immediately. Those of us staying at Petra and Eliot's (another couple and me), stayed up until 4 or so, drinking water and getting advice from ninjas.
What strikes me as strange about all this is how the city of Boston would not be more accommodating on this day. Mass transit doesn't run late at night, so you'd think they'd make an exception, especially for a winter night in Boston. I hear maybe it's the taxi cabal keeping the night all to themselves, at the cabbies' and our expense.
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