So Saturday after the wedding the Field, #13 who was staying with us, and I get back to our apartment. The field is hungry so we decide to run upstairs to our apartment change and go to a diner. Its about 145 in the morning. So we go to the diner (which was completely unnecessary), but delicious. I even looked for Don't Stop Believing on the jukebox, but sadly ended up playing Wouldn't it Be Nice. So we leave and its a two block walk back to our apartment. Sitting on the sidewalk is a girl, who had to be 21 or 22 crying her eyes out. We asked if she was okay. She was crying so hard that she could barely talk. She also was wearing what appeared to be a cocktail napkin. Now, Hoboken is a safe place, but a drunk, underdressed crying girl at 2 o'clock in the morning, just can't be a good story. So she finally told us that she had left a bar in a huff because her boyfriend was dancing with other girls and being mean to her. She was from the middle of nowhere in Pennsylvannia and her boyfriend was not picking up her phone. She told us where she thinks where she was staying. Its about 20 blocks from our apartment in the wrong direction. The field and I did what any slightly drunk 30ish people would do, we volunteered to walk her there. About half way through the trek, my friend John comes up to us. So now like Dorothy and her friends, myself, the field, John and Rhoda the crying almost naked girl headed off to find Oz. The whole time we spoke about how her boyfriend seemed like a jerk and whether she was an Eagles or Steelers fan, and all the sort of small talk you make when you are walking a complete stranger home at 2:45 in the morning. When things like this happen it makes me never want to venture into the suburbs.