My last day in DC was spent relaxing… sort of. I checked in to my room at the Omni Shoreham hotel. Far better digs than I am used to, and at the same gummint rate that I would pay if staying at the Fleabag Hilton. I was told at that my room wasn’t ready, so I would have to wait. I decided to take a hike (literally) and go see the National Zoo. I like zoos, but more for the people watching than for the critters, save for the active chimps and other things that do more than sit around staring at the walls.
Today was no let down on the people watching. There were several tour groups in the zoo, primarily the Foundation for the Obscenely Obese Dipshits (F.O.O.D) who, between runs to the snack bar, wondered what each animal tasted like (chicken, mostly.) These people were so far beyond fat that they had their own gravity wells.
As the novelty of watching the North American Bipedal Waddler wore off, I was suddenly surrounded by elves. I thought it must be the heat, or the meds, but it was actually a tour group of “little persons.” I thought if I heard even one chorus of “Follow the Yellow brick road” I would lose my mind. Then I remembered: I had the Willy Wonka soundtrack on my IPOD (it pacifies my kids). After watching the menehunes walk around while listening to the oompa loompas lament Augustus Gloop, it was time to leave the zoo, and regain my composure and sanity.
I headed north on Connecticut Ave, and since it was a beautiful day, just wandered north, looking in the shops and taking in the scenery, but mostly just walked. After a couple hours, I was getting tired, and had to get back to the hotel to check in, and had a meeting with a reporter from the Beeb (who shall remain nameless until I read his article) that I met at the Milblogcon. I read the map at a bus stop and realized I was pretty far from the nearest metro stop. Damn. I hate taking busses and I’m too cheap to pay for a cab. I opted for the former, and took the bus to the metro.
Enjoyed the interview with the Beeb, and got into the room to freshen up.
I realized that I’d not eaten since the previous afternoon, and decided to head to
Chux rules for eating good Chinese food:
1. There must be Chinese people eating there.
2. Try to choose places that don’t have red lacquer everywhere, or look like Caine will wander in at any minute.
3. Menus don’t allow you to order by numbah
4. Kikoman on the table, hot tea served as you sit down, no buffets other than Dim-sum.
5. Daias (aka lazy susans) on the larger tables
I found such a place near the metro stop, ordered up a Blue Hawaii while I waited (always order from the “chef’s specialties” menu) for chow. Even treated myself to Spicy Wonton appetizer, and was duly impressed by the heat. Not so spicy as to be inedible, but spicy enough to make you cry out for your maker and change religion if (s)he doesn’t respond promptly. I am now a shunned Amish sinner, by the way.
After filling my gut, back to the hotel, pack up for the trip home, and sweet, sweet slumber.
Gee, my life is pretty
bucolic damn dull, now that I look at it.