 |
ornithopter: Shumai "Tour" Diary, pt. 2 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Saturday, Feb 15th, DC: We all wake up and head out for breakfast at some moose-themed (?) coffee place across from our hotel and try to decide if we're going to do the museum thing or the shopping in Georgetown thing. We decide on Georgetown. We grab a cab as we are about a 20 minute walk from the nearest subway. We arrive, we guess, and get out of the cab. Georgetown is much fancier than I remember it from my last visit which, granted, was at least 10 years ago. But it was pretty fancy then, too. They have apparently jumped on the Brat Pack bandwagon and opened a St. Elmo's Bar somewhere around here. Way to be up to date! I wonder if John Parr ever plays there and if he has a saxophone player who claps his hands over his head and implores "Let's rock!" before launching into an incredibly cheesy solo. In my mind, this happens every Saturday night. Or perhaps there are creepy robotic Brat Pack Types who snort coke off the bar every 5 minutes or so, kind of like the robotic "Norm" and "Cliff" they have at those airport Cheers bars.
Anyway, we find the Haagen Dazs where Henry Rollins and Ian McKaye worked and Jeni and I have our photos taken in front of it, as well as in front of Moby Dick House of Kebab. Blah, blah, we futz around for a while and then head back to the hotel for a nap.
Later, we get up and head down to the super trendy London-style bar in the hotel and all order $9 drinks called Pajama Parties. Then we head out to the Black Cat where a friend of Jeni's is DJ-ing in a nearly empty room. We drink our signature band drink, Stoli Raspberry and Ginger Ale (or Sprite) and get toasted, nicely toasted. It seems, however, that all of the city is hunkering down for the predicted snowstorm happening the next day. We, as New Englanders, are contemptuous of these Southerners panicking because of a little snow and count how many ladies' butt cracks we can see as their low rider jeans ride even lower when they sit down. Soon, our hubris will come back to bite us in our own ass cracks...
|
|
|
|
