Halloween 2011

So we're on the metro and somehow Casey Anthony comes up. I believe what we were discussing was our potential Halloween costumes and someone said they'd bet they would see a bunch of people dressed up as Casey Anthony. It was never really determined how one would go about dressing up as her but that's not the point. I then asked the guys involved, if they had the chance, would they date her given she is mildly attractive. Then it skipped to would anyone date anyone that had been in prison. I said I would definitely date Martha Stewart, who has been to prison, because she's rich as hell and she's old so there's a chance she might not be around too long for me to have to share her money with her.

This was not received well, so I had to explain that I am not that great of a person and really the only reason I am in DC is for the potential for a wealthy spouse. Again, not well received. And people didn't think she was that old. So, later when I got home I looked her up on the wikipedia. It turns out she is like 70, which is adequately old, used to be a model, which has got to be worth something, and--brace yourself for this one--HAS BEEN STRUCK BY LIGHTNING THREE TIMES. Now it was late when I looked this up so maybe I just caught the page when an editor had been sleeping, but, really, how long can someone that has been struck by lightning three times live? Does anyone know if Martha Stewart is looking to rob the cradle and, if so, where she lives?

Anyway.

As you probably know, it was Halloween this past weekend. I feel obligated to give a history of the holiday here, but I won't because I don't know it and don't really want to look it up. I guess I could have done without this paragraph.

Maybe it has to do with the fact that I watch a lot of episodes of the situational comedies Friends and How I Met Your Mother, but I had the brilliant idea last week to try to become a regular at a bar/coffee shop. Guess which type of establishment won out? Yeah, I don't really have any regular coffee drinking friends. Although I wish I did. Part of me wants to be that type of person that goes to coffee shops and sits around and waxes philosophical. But I don't really have philosophical friends, I am not that philosophical, and coffee shops aren't open that late so I would just eventually go out to a bar afterwards anyway because all that caffeinated energy needs to be spent somewhere.

So I propose The Getaway on 14th St. in Columbia Heights because it does not seem to get super crowded, which is good because who wants to be a regular at a bar that they may not always be able to get into like Meridian Pint or Lou's, and it's close to home. The other prerequisite was that they have to have a $3 beer. They do not outside the hours of 5-7pm.

So I meet my one roommate there around 6 on Friday. Eventually three other roommates come on by because they just could not miss out on the Potential Bar At Which We Will Become Regulars Tryout Night. Now on the television shows they are always talking about funny things and their conversations flow so well and if I know how to do anything it's start a conversation. So I ask, "Hey roommates, what do you guys want to talk about?" That didn't go as planned and I will skip ahead a little bit and bring you to the point where I say, "Hey roommates, since there are seven of us, which of the seven dwarfs do you think each one of us is?"

I regret asking this because the result was me feeling like my roommates don't know me. I was unanimously labeled Sleepy. And for the seven deadly sins I was sloth.

One day I am going to leave this town and start over and find people who will get to know me for who I am rather than the fact that I get very little sleep during the week so try to make it up on the weekends while they have consistent sleep schedules that do not reach abnormal hours of the day. It's basic fucking arithmetic. I sleep less during the week but more on the weekends. Let's add it up and I am sure, overall, I get less sleep than most people.

Anyway.

After The Getaway, we tried out this hole in the wall Latino bar that is always empty by our house, Acuario, and it was even emptier than we expected. So The Getaway is now our bar where we will try to be regulars.

So I had a couple friends from home come down for the halloween weekend. After they get here on Friday night we head on over to Adams Morgan, per their request. The idea was to find some place where we can dance. Not my idea, mind you, but the idea. We know of Brass Monkey and Grand Central. Luckily, both were packed beyond an acceptable level, so we ended up at Leaky Faucet, which has never once ended well on account of $3 PBR tallboys and $10 mini pitchers of captain and coke. But there weren't really any other options.

Eventually, we want to go to a bar that I did not know the name of but found out is called Duplex at 18th and U. So we walk down there and, upon getting there, find that it is nothing like last year and is closed and resembling some sort of a restaurant.

So we head on over to Nellie's on like 9th and U because I am comfortable enough with my masculinity to say that I am attracted to men. Kidding. I am not that masculine. Anyway. That is where we end the night. And on our way out my one roommate sees a lady dressed as Where's Waldo and says, "hey waldo!" And she shrugs him off or something similar verbally and, with possibly the funniest/quippiest thing he has ever done, curses her and says, "I hope you get lost, Waldo." You had to be there?

Then it acted like January and got cold and started snowing on Saturday.  Jesus, you want to explain that one?

Luckily, our halloween plans consisted of riding around on a bus and drinking, which are notoriously warming activities. And I know you have been reading this whole time wondering what I dressed up as. Well, I went as myself, a blessing in disguise. While wearing a shirt that said 'i am a blessing' and one of those classic glasses, nose, and mustache combination funny face things. Don't act like you didn't know I was that clever.

So I spent halloween riding around by all the monuments and the nation's capital drinking in a party bus with 30 other people. Eventually we stopped at a bar called My Brother's Place, where I once got a girlfriend, but this time just took the chance to watch the end of the Stanford-USC game, which was exhilarating. Then we drove around more until we ended up at the Biergarten Haus on H St. You know, the one from last weekend. It is here where we meet up with a couple friends of my friend, one of whom she would like to set me up with. And then I do my best to act like a normal human being capable of comfortable interactions, but fail pretty thoroughly. I was told she is awkward, as well, but she says something like are you excited for our date and I respond by saying something too honest like I'm quite terrified actually [of the thought of having to try to convince another human being to want to spend time with me and saying things that are not too honest or intrusive or arrogant or ignorant or anything else resembling my natural disposition]. Luckily, for everyone, that didn't last long so we jump back on the bus and we called it a night.

So Sunday was a full day, too. First there was brunch at Red Rocks. Then there was football and such at Lou's. Then I spent the rest of my day at my friend's watching football.

Is that the end of my blogworthy weekend? No. To further solidify our status as regulars at The Getaway, we head on over there after my roommate gets off of work on Monday. And we are sitting there acting like we belong and such when actual regulars come in that are recognized by the bartender. They get to talking and the regulars mention how they have a friend that would like to find a bar that would host their competitive karaoke league. The bar people are excited about this prospect and my roommate and I are rethinking The Getaway as our bar. And maybe DC in general because that's an embarrassingly terrible idea.

Then we overhear one of the regulars talking about how Chipotle is giving away $2 burritos if you wear a costume. Well, naturally, this was too good to be true. Their website says it has to be a family farm related costume. As graduates of the University of Tennessee, it is only natural that we have all orange jumpsuits. I remember this fact and BOOM we're carrots. So we carrot on up and head on over to Chipotle even though we just ate because we are gluttonous and awesome.

It turns out we were the only ones that know about the dressing like a farm related object when we get there and we are the only ones dressed up in the line that extends out the door. So last year they had a deal where, if you wore aluminum foil on your head, you would get $2 burritos and, for some stupid reason, this was accepted this year as well. So after an hour waiting, which may or may not have been worth it, we get to show off our costumes  that turn out not to be worth anymore than someone wearing a piece of fucking aluminum foil to the burrito makers even though the website says nothing about this.

Luckily, I didn't really have any pride going into this situation, so I enjoyed my burrito bowl all the same.