Dc trip 2 Electric Boogaloo day 1

A Quick Recap of Day 1. (A recap anyway.)

The Importance of Reading the Fine Print. Hold Onto that Drink. Why aren’t I Moving? Maybe a Fifth Count will Yield A Better Result 

Made it here with little fuss.

  Except the fact that I gave Wendi the wrong address to our Sea-Tac park and ride. 

  I’ll admit; I was pretty blasé about checking as ALL the Sea-Tac area motels have shuttles to the airport. 

Correction: All but one. We’ll be paying plenty for that SeaTac parking. 

  Spilling my Bloody Mary mix on the flight? Not great. Thank goodness most of it landed on MY pants. But a few molecules managed to make it onto Ms. Wendi’s shirt, pants, shoe and sock. Really, I’m lucky she didn’t get the plane to turn around right then over the Great Plains. 

  Once we got to Dulles, I was reminded of a strange but true fact. It is difficult to walk down an escalator that isn’t..escalating. 

Well, I at least it is for moi. 

  We’re at the top; I step on and nothing happens. After an embarrassing 1.5 seconds of confusion, I start to gingerly walk down the steps. 

  My decades of muscle memory make each step down feel just a tad..perilous. Stairs are unmoving and uniform. It’s all on you to make it work. An escalator is a wild ride. Your only job is to just hold on and the magic whisks you to the bottom. 

  Fortunately, while my feet were confused, my hand knows to Hold Onto The Rail and so I managed to not go flying at the bottom when my stupid feet missed the bottom step. 

  After checking in, we had a delicious dinner at the Exclusive Members Club. After gorging ourselves (this being the first real meal either of us have had today), we each grabbed another drink and small snack and headed back to our room to unpack and relax. 

  And that’s when I discovered my error. I packed 3 pairs of earbuds, two pajama bottoms, four different chargers (Finally am getting use out of a Teacher’s

Union gift!), a small pharmacy’s worth of pills and ointments (for my eyes, you sickos) and enough socks and undies to last a month. 

  Yet, I did not pack a third t-shirt. Just two shirts. That’s all I managed. And one has a big green dinosaur on it so pretty sure Ms. W will notice if I wear it every other day. 

  Guess I’ll be picking up a lot of “I Went to DC and had to buy this stupid T-shirt” shirts. 

  If (when) my Beloved finds out, she may be tempted to remind me that I forgot to bring pajama bottoms last summer and so had to take a Lyft to a nearby Target. It’s like I’m cursed or something. (Can being moronic count as a curse? Discuss amongst yourselves.) 

  Tomorrow, we’re back to the Natural History Museum as we managed less than half the exhibits last summer. After

that? Hard to say. 

Piece Out!