Sitting in a bar in DC listening to Bananarama and watching X-game idiocy. Some old black guy I thought was homeless with matted hair turns out to be a neighborhood intellectual, of sorts. Something like my dad.
It's 90 in DC, 90 in Chapel Hill, 90 in Princeton, 90 in Manhattan. 95 in Boston. You can't win. At least I took off my tie.
Between me and home lies a frigid Amtrak trip.
Washington appears to have some character. Saw an African diplomat in kente cloth wandering amongst the 6 story glass boxes and sorority girls.
Friday, August 03, 2007
90 Degrees
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1 comment:
DC is cool. Especially when you have your own enhanced monument.
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