another one

I am not even kidding, this is how I live.

Friday I was out of the office for work, inspecting buildings and whatnot. Which, on this day, meant that I slept in until sometime between 7:30 and 8:00, and killed a wounded soldier that was in the fridge before heading out the door. So I finished up about 4:00 or so in the afternoon. Note: when working from home, I will never cease to be amazed at how often things tend to wind down around 4:00. Feeling a powerful combination of hunger and thirst, I packed up my computer and headed out to one of my favorite places in the DC – Kramerbooks and Afterwards. This place is a beautiful combination of bookstore (a pretty large bookstore, by the way), bar, and restaurant. And again, by restaurant, I mean real food – definitely a step above typical bar far. And $4 Magic Hats for happy hour. And the service is also great. I really do love this place. And so I’m answering emails, realizing that I have a few new assignments for this month that will pay me handsomely. Have I ever spoken about these high stress finance and real estate work environments? Seriously, I live a dream – I don’t see how I can be so miserable sometimes. So I’m answering emails, drinking beers, and this girl sits down next to me and starts drinking vodka + cranberries and working on a sodoku puzzle. So obviously after striking up a conversation we realize that she a) likes to drink, b) has an undergrad degree in economics and a minor or emphasis or something in environmental policy from Boston University, and c) is meeting friends later at one of my favorite bars, where the bartender, who is also her neighbor, always hooks me up. So after a brief discussion about the merits of humanzees and the true champion of any bear vs. shark competition (BvsS was also one of her favorite bands. Always a good conversation piece – ask somebody their five favorite bands. The first four always come quickly, but that fifth one is scary, because you don’t want to screw up and realize that you’re done. You might actually start shaking on the fifth one.) So at this point I am completely bailing on my coworkers who I was meeting up with after work and walking down the streets arm in arm with this girl, laptop bag dutifully dangling from my back, on our way to the next bar. And at this point we realize that maybe we’ve had a bit to drink on the day. So, at the next bar we walk in as the two most obviously wrecked human beings on the planet. So I’m downing PBRs and cracking on anything I can, discussing the merits of the National Press Building (a beautiful building in downtown DC) with a guy and his wife at the bar. By this point the girl is woefully passed out – thank god that she has caring and nice friends, because I forget sometimes that maybe I’m capable of consuming more alcohol than most people should and remaining semi-coherent. And those times that I am not at all coherent, well, then, we just know how much of everything I have consumed on those days, don’t we? Turns out this guy is the owner of the place, and as of today I may or may not be involved in a condotel deal. But my final bar tab was $3, so no complaints. At this point the members of the team that I was originally drinking with decided that it was time to go home, as the girl was more or less passed out. So, settling up my $3 tab I decide to head home. And by head home I mean get distracted by the fact that one of my neighbors on the block appears to be having a party. And, as it was a beautiful day, the doors and everything are open. Not being one to pass up on a social experience and a party, I decide, computer bag and all, to waltz on in and have a drink and start chatting. Two things I notice at this party: 1) I couldn’t find a keg, just an open array of liquors, and 2) there are exactly 2 girls and 100 men at this party. And this was a case where there were a lot of men, not because these are the alpha-male jock types who maybe just don’t associate well with women; au contraire, these men would associate with and empathize extremely well with women, right down to discussions about manicures and Hugh Grant movies, if you follow. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I’m pretty sure I introduced myself to one of the women by saying “hi. I live on this block, and I’m straight.” And I think that I argued with one guy that Allen Iverson is the best player in the NBA. I love AI. So I leave, rum + coke in hand while walking down the street, and head home. Upon awaking on Saturday morning, I am thankfully alone, half of a rum + coke sitting on the counter, somehow my email checking and spreadsheets are up to date on my computer, socks are inexplicably located next to my head in my bed, and it is way too early, something like 7:30 Saturday morning.

This, my friends, is what happens when I work from home. This is also why I miss hanging out with a lot of you – though it certainly isn’t an everytime occurrence, we all know that I occasionally embark on an exploratory mission like this. Friday truly was one of those days.