It was a blast and proof that nutella addicts, WOW geeks, and southern belles really can co-exist peacefully (don't ask Megan...she still believes firearms should be involved).
Unfortunately, the Phillies were in town beating on the Nats. Not pretty, but predictable. Doubly unfortunate is getting on the Metro at the Navy Yard post game. Me and every Phillies and Nationals fan on one platform. Cozy!
Yes, i educated the out-of-towners on proper Metro escalator ettiquette: Stand on the right, and let the pros walk up the left! I was, for 20 minutes, a girl in a black suit and red top awash in a sea of Jerseys and jeans. I am content to know that I at least matched the Nats, and the odd number of Terps shirt (Fear the Turtle!).
I have my iPod at max level, and yet i can hear this mostly-drunken crowd clearly (I've had a couple myself). Men, women, and children WAY up past their normally respectible bedtimes. I am an interesting Native, seen in my own habitat. Don't feed me, I do bite...and spew poltics....
This is what i had expected of my sojourn into DC last Friday. It is lively, but not circus-esque, alas. Normal people having an adnormal night celebrating America's past time.
I dont understand why Metro, knowing full well the sporting events in the center of the free world, doesnt adjust trains for an hour after games to expedite patron delivery services...for the low low price of $5.00, i suppose I'm being unreasonable.
Me and my quite content heels are eager to make the last, uphill trek homeward to perhaps dance (I need to!). It was lovely to sit with smart, witty people, text my loved ones and puppy owners, and laugh manaically. Worth feeling like a sardine in an admittedly benign, though crowded tin can. Goodnight, sleepy little sardines!
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