The District

I've been to Washington, DC, four times now. And so far, the fourth time is the best. It might be the one that changes my attitude about this city.

My first visit was part of a dance trip at the end of the 80s, when we came to perform in several places, including the national Fourth of July parade. It was hot and humid, and I saw a purse-snatcher use a big butcher knife to slice a handbag strap and run with it, in broad daylight. It didn't leave me with the best impression. The next two trips were less eventful; they just led to a feeling that DC is boring, touristy, and awful to drive in, and left me confused on what to call the place.*

On this trip, it's still touristy and awful to drive in, but hanging with locals has ensured that DC is definitely not boring. They showed me more of the urban neighborhood view of the place, which I dug. I arrived yesterday afternoon, but didn't make it into the city until early evening, due to the aforementioned shit driving conditions. Aris did his damnedest to get Twitter folks out to welcome me, but it wasn't all that successful. The only one awesome enough to show was Ruben, who we met at Local 16, after I walked many blocks in a torrential downpour. Despite having an umbrella, I still hadn't quite dried out 2 beers later when we walked down the road for Ethiopian food at Dukem.

I had never eaten Ethiopian before, but I'm an instant fan. Apparently it's big here, and do you want to get some Ethiopian food is essentially code for ya wanna go eat a big pile of meat? Yes. Yes, sir, I do.

After a couple more drinks at the famous gay hangout Nellie's Sports Bar, poor Aris ran out of steam and went home. Bless his heart, he fought through a terrible cold to go out and entertain me. Luckily Ruben was all too happy to take over guiding my booze tour, with one last stop at Mad Hatter.

Mad Hatter is a total meat market for Bros and Woo Girls, very much the Jersey Shore of DC. The sociologist in me was fascinated; my inner party girl was loving it. Ruben's only advice was pretend you're 22 again. Done. We drank, we danced, we set out to accomplish the random DFMO (Dance Floor Make Out), but ended up just hanging with each other the whole night instead. I'm sure it would have been possible, the moment Ruben took 2 steps away to grab us drinks, a dude hit on me. Ruben had talked to a group of ridic bachelorette party girls earlier, and when he left to walk me back to my hotel, they all turned and glared at me. The whole experience was fantastic. Absolutely fantastic.

But all the fun means that now I'm sleep deprived  for my rainy DC Sunday, and I may not be able to really make the most of it. I always blow it out on the first night of trips like this and spend the rest suffering. Maybe someday I'll learn...

Nah.


*Aris eventually cleared this up for me, after getting very frustrated with my inability to call DC the right name on Twitter.