I went to Newport for some beach time, since I am so in need of relaxation given that I don’t have a job, don’t go to school, and don’t even volunteer at some altruistic organization.

Newport, Rhode Island stirs up visions of Gatsby, the Jazz Age of overly large summer houses. Nowadays, Newport arouses images of drunken bikers with tattoos passing through town on their way to New Hampshire, and the occasional preppy wearing seersucker and fondling his bride-to-be during their nuptial weekend.

I went to a beach club bar where most of the men were shirtless, too tan, and tattooed, and there were drunken midday bachelorette parties as well. I felt like I was in an episode of Jersey Shore. That show is one of the only trashy American pleasures that I will never understand.

- Haley Hogan

Tweet This Post