Everybody loves free stuff. I mean heck, I check the free section of craigslist at least once every other week. Over the course of my first week at law school I received a ridiculous amount of free stuff. Some of it will definitely be put to use in the near future...the rest was instantly thrown into either the trash or my second favorite place to dispose of useless items: under the bed. Anyway, here's a list of the everything I received for free so far, in ascending order of usefulness.
Variety of hand bags - One, i'm not a chick. Two, i'm not gay. Yea, I'm fashionably conscious but I'm not gonna be spotted toting around a hand bag. If i do, I figure I can't hold someone liable for punching me in or around the genital area. Thanks, but no thanks. You've just added to the landfill under my bed.
Pens - I mean come on, everyone needs more pens. I snagged two. I saw someone grab a whole handful off the table...it was nice to see an opportunist at work.
School of Law t-shirt - I still haven't taken this out of the "crap i dont care about" pocket of my backpack. There's a slight possibility I will wear the shirt during daylight but more than likely it'll be used as a gym shirt or for other purposes which may or may not be appropriate to say aloud.
Breakfast - Muffins, bagels, coffee, donuts...every day during the week. What more can you ask for? Well for starters, some damn creamcheese would have been nice. Go big or go home.
Lunch at Steven Starr - This actually is happening tomorrow. My faculty mentor is taking myself and a few other students to POD, the University City Steven Starr restaurant. Bang-a-rang
School of Law Sweatshirt - Unlike the t-shirt, this will definitely get some use. Plus the fact that is says "law school" lets those acquaintances who are still in undergrad know that I did in fact graduate and am not in fact enrolled as a super senior. I definitely said fact too much in this paragraph.
Beer - Three out of the five orientation days I got to drink on the school's tab. It was a great idea on their part. Every time I started questioning my decision to attend The School of Law they conveniently had an event with free flowing alcohol. The professors encouraged us to have a "good time". Hell, they were having the best time out of anyone. Though I'm no longer questioning my desire to be at the Law School, I am questioning whether my liver will survive the three years until I graduate.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
First week of Law School: What I learned
It's been an interesting week. Law school orientation is half way through and I've definitely learned some important things as my first week as a law student winds down. Here's what i consider to be the top 5 pieces of information I gained so far.
1. Backpacks: Not cool. Supposedly its all about the messenger bag. I'm not sure I can pull it off.
2. Ethics: If enough money is at stake, feel free to push the envelope. You gotta make a living somehow.
3. That guy (or that girl) - There is someone in every class who will raise their hand at every opportunity. They're called gunners. You just know they are gunning for the Student Bar Association. Best defense?...gossip about them relentlessly
4. Drink. I gotta dedicate this one to a third year (rising 3L as us law students call it)I met on Monday. He made it very clear. If it wasn't for alcohol, he wouldn't have made it as far as he had. He could have been in the top 10% of his class if he had never gone out. But this would have resulted in suicide. Instead, he went out to the bars frequently and is now in the top 30% of his class. Its refreshing to see someone with priorities.
5. Google every single case. Also advice from the 3L...after his 6th beer.
1. Backpacks: Not cool. Supposedly its all about the messenger bag. I'm not sure I can pull it off.
2. Ethics: If enough money is at stake, feel free to push the envelope. You gotta make a living somehow.
3. That guy (or that girl) - There is someone in every class who will raise their hand at every opportunity. They're called gunners. You just know they are gunning for the Student Bar Association. Best defense?...gossip about them relentlessly
4. Drink. I gotta dedicate this one to a third year (rising 3L as us law students call it)I met on Monday. He made it very clear. If it wasn't for alcohol, he wouldn't have made it as far as he had. He could have been in the top 10% of his class if he had never gone out. But this would have resulted in suicide. Instead, he went out to the bars frequently and is now in the top 30% of his class. Its refreshing to see someone with priorities.
5. Google every single case. Also advice from the 3L...after his 6th beer.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
What to Wear on an Interview - Part III
I know I know...I thought this metrosexual blog series was over too. I mean it doesn't even really make sense for me to write about interviews, considering I'm going to law school and won't even be on an interview in the next three years. That's why I'm going to shift the focus from guys to gals. Its dangerous, I know, but i cant help myself after spotting the most horridly dressed woman on her way to an interview. She had those dress pants that cover pretty much the entire shoe and look like they at some point belonged to a pot smoking, bare-chested, hippy love beast. There have been a few sightings of hovering Delorians, so that could explain their untimely existence. She also had a white shirt which, although tucked in, overflowed with excess fabric.
Now how did I know she was on her way to an interview? I mean, hey, she could have been on her way to a casting call for MTV's Made: "I want to be a Continual Disappointment to My Parents". But she carried with her the one item which confirmed it was indeed an interview - the padfolio. You just know that thing was stocked to the brim with resumes that her interviewers would later be playing office basketball with. Good thing she made sure to get the most expensive paper the print shop offered. It makes those cross cubicle shots a lot easier. Anyway, the following is my amateur opinion on what a woman should wear on an interview. Please feel free to cross reference with Vogue, Cosmopolitan, or Elle.
I guess the best place to start would be the suit. If a woman's ever in doubt, she should always go with a suit. Its hard not to look good. The most important decision when it comes to the suit is, of course, pants or skirt. How ever shall this epic decision be made? Well, its quite simple actually. Unless you plan on doing cartwheels into the interview room, for the love of god wear a skirt. A skirt lets the interviewer know a woman is confident as such and self-assured in her ability to think outside the male monomaniac box. Whoa, big word. Many companies understand that women are more capable problem solvers than men (that's what my industrial psychology teacher told me at least) and will seek out those interviewees who express the most confidence in who they are.
Whats the best length of the skirt, she asks? It really should be kept between the top of the knee and four inches below it. You can definitely creep a bit longer (I know some girls have this weird issue with their calves) but it just needs to fit snug. Not tight, snug. I saw countless girls with super tight skirts come in to interview at my last co-op position. While it wasn't a horrible experience for me by any means, I never did see any of them again, much to my chagrin (Side note: I was in kinkos last night and the lone employee used the word chagrin in passing dialogue. I was impressed and promised myself I would use it at some point. Im usually not good at keeping promises, so I'm quite happy with myself right now). But back to the issue at hand. Whats even worse than a tight skirt is one that hangs loose. You know what they say...a loose skirt is a loose mind. Also, one of the girls who actually got the intern position told me she would sit in front of a mirror before leaving for an interview. This would give her an idea of what the interviewer will see or more importantly, what they wouldn't see. In terms of color, keep it simple and professional; blacks, navys, and grays are all great choices. I’m a big fan of a grey suit with a very faint plaid pattern. It gives me tingles.
And finally, when it comes to cleavage...less is more.
Im feeling pretty confident with my promise keeping abilities, so i hereby promise
this will be the last entry in What to Wear on an Interview. To my first, and unfortunately probably not last, attempt at blogging fashion advice - I lay you to rest. Please do not haunt me at some point down the road as I suspect you will. And if for some reason blog heaven is the same as dog heaven, tell buck I miss him.
Yep...I talk to my blog posts.
Now how did I know she was on her way to an interview? I mean, hey, she could have been on her way to a casting call for MTV's Made: "I want to be a Continual Disappointment to My Parents". But she carried with her the one item which confirmed it was indeed an interview - the padfolio. You just know that thing was stocked to the brim with resumes that her interviewers would later be playing office basketball with. Good thing she made sure to get the most expensive paper the print shop offered. It makes those cross cubicle shots a lot easier. Anyway, the following is my amateur opinion on what a woman should wear on an interview. Please feel free to cross reference with Vogue, Cosmopolitan, or Elle.
I guess the best place to start would be the suit. If a woman's ever in doubt, she should always go with a suit. Its hard not to look good. The most important decision when it comes to the suit is, of course, pants or skirt. How ever shall this epic decision be made? Well, its quite simple actually. Unless you plan on doing cartwheels into the interview room, for the love of god wear a skirt. A skirt lets the interviewer know a woman is confident as such and self-assured in her ability to think outside the male monomaniac box. Whoa, big word. Many companies understand that women are more capable problem solvers than men (that's what my industrial psychology teacher told me at least) and will seek out those interviewees who express the most confidence in who they are.
Whats the best length of the skirt, she asks? It really should be kept between the top of the knee and four inches below it. You can definitely creep a bit longer (I know some girls have this weird issue with their calves) but it just needs to fit snug. Not tight, snug. I saw countless girls with super tight skirts come in to interview at my last co-op position. While it wasn't a horrible experience for me by any means, I never did see any of them again, much to my chagrin (Side note: I was in kinkos last night and the lone employee used the word chagrin in passing dialogue. I was impressed and promised myself I would use it at some point. Im usually not good at keeping promises, so I'm quite happy with myself right now). But back to the issue at hand. Whats even worse than a tight skirt is one that hangs loose. You know what they say...a loose skirt is a loose mind. Also, one of the girls who actually got the intern position told me she would sit in front of a mirror before leaving for an interview. This would give her an idea of what the interviewer will see or more importantly, what they wouldn't see. In terms of color, keep it simple and professional; blacks, navys, and grays are all great choices. I’m a big fan of a grey suit with a very faint plaid pattern. It gives me tingles.
And finally, when it comes to cleavage...less is more.
Im feeling pretty confident with my promise keeping abilities, so i hereby promise
this will be the last entry in What to Wear on an Interview. To my first, and unfortunately probably not last, attempt at blogging fashion advice - I lay you to rest. Please do not haunt me at some point down the road as I suspect you will. And if for some reason blog heaven is the same as dog heaven, tell buck I miss him. Yep...I talk to my blog posts.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Random Rambles
Though the weekend was filled with shananigans, I unfortunately ended it without a decent story to blog about. I was tempted to write about the girl who both spit on me and called me ugly within a 5 minute time span, but I've already verbally told that story to the only people who really read this blog anyway - Ryan and my parents.
So instead, I will use this post to discuss a few things which have been on my mind, but do not warrant a full entry to themselves.
Double Dipping - No, I'm not talking about that half eaten nacho that would taste so much better if you could just sneak in one last dip in the salsa. I'm talking about wearing the same shirt twice in one week. This use to be a huge no no for me as I was guaranteed to run into the same girls throughout the course of the week. Even though these run-ins may have only lasted a minute or two, it was not a chance I could take. But since graduating college, I'm spending nights all over the place - thursdays in the city, fridays in the burbs, saturdays at someones house. Its great...I've realized I can wear my favorite shirt (black button down from H&M)as many times as I want. It's like I have chips and salsa all to my self. I can double dip without thinking twice. Heck, I can even quadruple dip. Plus, the only people who see me more than once during a weekend are my close group of friends. If one of them decides to point it out I'll just call them gay and that will be the end of the discussion.
Email Valedicitons - What ever happened to the sincerely's and the best regards? Saying farewell at the end of an email has turned into a free for all. People seriously think they can get away with adding -ly to any word and its an acceptable sign-off. It really drives me crazy. To get back at all of them, I'm going to start using the word of the day as my goodbye. According to dictionary.com today's word is cynosure (http://dictionary.reference.com/wordoftheday/). Imagine this email:
Hey Tom,
It was great getting out on the golf course with you. Sorry again for laughing when you fell off the cart and broke your wrist. And sorry also for not believing you when you said it was broken. We should do it again sometime. Tell Marge I said hi.
Cynosurely,
-Scott.
Facebook Quizzes - If you're ever curious how much free time someone has on their hands, go check how many facebook quizzes they've taken in the past week. If it's above two, you can be pretty sure they either A)were home sick B)are a 7-year old girl or C)live a boring life and have no self control. A facebook quiz exists for pretty much everything these days. There's one for what car you'd drive, what entourage character you are, and what fruit most resembles your personality. There's even one that tells you what percentage white or black you are - wow, thats not offensive. A certain ex-girlfriend recently announced on an unnamed social networking site that she took a quiz entitled "The name of the person you will marry" and got "Scott" as her answer. No joke. It wasn't really the answer that surprised me. It was the fact that she let everyone know about it. For some reason the Carolina Liar song, "I'm Not Over", popped into my head. Also, I know she hasn't been home sick in awhile so I guess that leaves one of two options. For my sake, I'm hoping for option C.
So instead, I will use this post to discuss a few things which have been on my mind, but do not warrant a full entry to themselves.
Double Dipping - No, I'm not talking about that half eaten nacho that would taste so much better if you could just sneak in one last dip in the salsa. I'm talking about wearing the same shirt twice in one week. This use to be a huge no no for me as I was guaranteed to run into the same girls throughout the course of the week. Even though these run-ins may have only lasted a minute or two, it was not a chance I could take. But since graduating college, I'm spending nights all over the place - thursdays in the city, fridays in the burbs, saturdays at someones house. Its great...I've realized I can wear my favorite shirt (black button down from H&M)as many times as I want. It's like I have chips and salsa all to my self. I can double dip without thinking twice. Heck, I can even quadruple dip. Plus, the only people who see me more than once during a weekend are my close group of friends. If one of them decides to point it out I'll just call them gay and that will be the end of the discussion.
Email Valedicitons - What ever happened to the sincerely's and the best regards? Saying farewell at the end of an email has turned into a free for all. People seriously think they can get away with adding -ly to any word and its an acceptable sign-off. It really drives me crazy. To get back at all of them, I'm going to start using the word of the day as my goodbye. According to dictionary.com today's word is cynosure (http://dictionary.reference.com/wordoftheday/). Imagine this email:
Hey Tom,
It was great getting out on the golf course with you. Sorry again for laughing when you fell off the cart and broke your wrist. And sorry also for not believing you when you said it was broken. We should do it again sometime. Tell Marge I said hi.
Cynosurely,
-Scott.
Facebook Quizzes - If you're ever curious how much free time someone has on their hands, go check how many facebook quizzes they've taken in the past week. If it's above two, you can be pretty sure they either A)were home sick B)are a 7-year old girl or C)live a boring life and have no self control. A facebook quiz exists for pretty much everything these days. There's one for what car you'd drive, what entourage character you are, and what fruit most resembles your personality. There's even one that tells you what percentage white or black you are - wow, thats not offensive. A certain ex-girlfriend recently announced on an unnamed social networking site that she took a quiz entitled "The name of the person you will marry" and got "Scott" as her answer. No joke. It wasn't really the answer that surprised me. It was the fact that she let everyone know about it. For some reason the Carolina Liar song, "I'm Not Over", popped into my head. Also, I know she hasn't been home sick in awhile so I guess that leaves one of two options. For my sake, I'm hoping for option C.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
A Recap of Yesternight's Winning Convos
Last night wasn't anything special. But i took pleasure in a few particular conversations. In all reality, my brain is only functioning at 3% today, and repeating conversations seems like a good way to get another post up without much effort.
Set up: My couch
Breezy: Dude it would suck to be a girl and have a period.
Me: Seriously
Breezy: What's the traffic looking like on I-76
Me: Let me check....OK, her flow is looking pretty good.
Breezy: Gross
Set up: A group of us are in the outdoor area of the bar.
Daewoo: What beers are on special tonight?
Waitress: $3 miller lites and PBRs
Me: Wait, the bartender said it was $1 PBRs. Are you new here or something?
Waitress: That's just what they told me, I'm sorry.
10 minutes later
Breezy: What time is the incubus ticket giveaway?
Waitress: It's happening at midnight.
Me: Then why does it look like that radio guy is pulling out a name now?
Waitress: Oh..umm..yea..I guess they are doing it now
Me: Strike two
Usually after banter like this with a waitress it would be easy to get her number. But if her waitressing abilities are any indication of what kind of person she is, I want nothing to do with her or her number.
Radio Guy: Hey, I'm really sorry you guys didn't win the incubus tickets and the miller lite VIP passes in which you'd be able to consume as much beer as you liked. But here, have this SAW trilogy DVD.
Daewoo: Are you kidding me??
Set up: At the bar I strategically position myself next to a cute blonde. The bartender is making her mixed drinks.
Me: They always skimp on the liquor don't they.
Blondie: Yes! It's so annoying
Me: Why don't you just get beer?
Blondie: All they have for $1 is PBR but the only beer I drink is yuengling.
Me: You sound picky. Picky and cheap. But I like your choice in beer
Blondie: Well...uh...thanks. That's why I never go to frat parties...the beer is like water and the guys are just as tasteless.
Me: Yeeeeaaaaa
Set up: Daewoo and myself are sitting on my porch. A girl, hereby referred to as Dumb Girl, who had attempted to verbally harass us a few hours ago walks by.
Daewoo: Hey you, what are you looking at?!?!
Dumb Girl: Shut up!
Daewoo: Come up here
For some reason this girl actually listens and comes up to the porch.
Daewoo: Look at your sandals. What they heck are they. Are you trying to be Egyptian or something?
Dumb Girl: Ugh! You are such a racist.
She storms away.
Daewoo: What kind of racist am I?!?!
Set up: My couch
Breezy: Dude it would suck to be a girl and have a period.
Me: Seriously
Breezy: What's the traffic looking like on I-76
Me: Let me check....OK, her flow is looking pretty good.
Breezy: Gross
Set up: A group of us are in the outdoor area of the bar.
Daewoo: What beers are on special tonight?
Waitress: $3 miller lites and PBRs
Me: Wait, the bartender said it was $1 PBRs. Are you new here or something?
Waitress: That's just what they told me, I'm sorry.
10 minutes later
Breezy: What time is the incubus ticket giveaway?
Waitress: It's happening at midnight.
Me: Then why does it look like that radio guy is pulling out a name now?
Waitress: Oh..umm..yea..I guess they are doing it now
Me: Strike two
Usually after banter like this with a waitress it would be easy to get her number. But if her waitressing abilities are any indication of what kind of person she is, I want nothing to do with her or her number.
Radio Guy: Hey, I'm really sorry you guys didn't win the incubus tickets and the miller lite VIP passes in which you'd be able to consume as much beer as you liked. But here, have this SAW trilogy DVD.
Daewoo: Are you kidding me??
Set up: At the bar I strategically position myself next to a cute blonde. The bartender is making her mixed drinks.
Me: They always skimp on the liquor don't they.
Blondie: Yes! It's so annoying
Me: Why don't you just get beer?
Blondie: All they have for $1 is PBR but the only beer I drink is yuengling.
Me: You sound picky. Picky and cheap. But I like your choice in beer
Blondie: Well...uh...thanks. That's why I never go to frat parties...the beer is like water and the guys are just as tasteless.
Me: Yeeeeaaaaa
Set up: Daewoo and myself are sitting on my porch. A girl, hereby referred to as Dumb Girl, who had attempted to verbally harass us a few hours ago walks by.
Daewoo: Hey you, what are you looking at?!?!
Dumb Girl: Shut up!
Daewoo: Come up here
For some reason this girl actually listens and comes up to the porch.
Daewoo: Look at your sandals. What they heck are they. Are you trying to be Egyptian or something?
Dumb Girl: Ugh! You are such a racist.
She storms away.
Daewoo: What kind of racist am I?!?!
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Capital Offense
Washington DC: our nations capital - where laws are made, national decisions executed, and where our history resides. It's also where lies are told, where bums overrun the streets, and where husbands cheat on their wives. 
As you might suspect, I'm not a huge fan of the District. But when my dad planned an impromptu family trip to the Air and Space museum this past weekend, I put my feelings aside (that doesn't happen to0 often) and figured spending some time with the fam would be a good change of pace.
On the way down we hit major traffic on 95 south. For those who don't know me well, i feel a certain connection with this road. We have a bond. And it hurt that it didn't forewarn me of the impending sea of brake lights. Coming to a complete standstill, I grab my dad's iPhone to find an alternate route. 1 hour and 8 roads later I had a new found hatred for the iPhone map application firmly cemented in my head. Sure, it has GPS and a traffic tracker. But if it doesn't have a suspiciously sexy woman with a British accent telling me exactly where to go, I'll stick to the old school paper maps.
We roll into the Chinatown section of DC around 9:30pm and immediately head to a restaurant - my dad and my sister so they can get proper nourishment; me to get proper alcoholic hydration. We get seated at a window booth which I'm very excited about since its such a great spot to people watch. But my excitement quickly turned to dread as I notice a bum sleeping on a bench approximately 8 feet from our window. Great...this is gonna be an easy meal to eat. I sip my beer, which I let the waitress pick out for me. Note to self: When in doubt stick with the basics - miller lite, bud light, and yuengling. This waitress' taste in beer is worse than bret michaels' choice in women. I'm concerned that she has some yet to be discovered oral disease which causes her palette to function like a feral dog's.
After dinner I drop my dad and sister off at the hotel and visit a friend who lives in Arlington. We go to a bar which use to be a auto body shop. It was actually kinda cool. The first thing I notice are the copious amounts of license plates lining the establishment. The second thing I notice is the staggering amount of attractive people. This confirms my pre-existing belief that if you travel outside of Philadelphia in any direction people become progressively more attractive. If you travel to the East, there's the added benefit of also becoming exponentially more trashy. Sadly, I am too wrapped up in reminisces of past fraternity shenanigans to formulate a decent plan of approach. I go to bed having relived years of past experiences but failing to create even one new story. This is not something I like to occur often.
My alarm goes off at 7:45. I had promised my Dad I'd be back by 8:15 and its about a 30 minute drive. No snooze button for this guy. I hustle out of my friends apartment, jump in the car, and head out onto I-66 West. Here's a timetable of the events that occured from that point on.
8:00am - After 15 minutes of doing 80 mph it hits me that I definitely should have seen my exit by now. I get off the highway, get back on, and slow my speed to 60 mph.
8:20am - I pass my friends exit. There's no way I missed the exit AGAIN. Maybe im just confused and its Route 234 instead of Route 267. That could make sense
8:30 - I head back west and get off on Route 234. This road has street signs and I specifically remember the correct road being a highway.
8:31 - I make an aggressive u-turn and get back on I-66 West.
8:35 - I call my Dad. His phone is off.
8:55 - BJ's wholesale on my right. Definitely don't remember that. I exit and get back on I-66 east.
8:57 - Call my dad again. His phone is still off. I try looking up the hotel's phone number on my blackberry. My phone dies. Manic yelling ensues.
9:05 - I decide to try another exit. Route 160. Desperation is kicking in.
9:06 - Street lights again. Damn it...I am officially lost in an unfamiliar city.
9:08 - Disregarding whatever manhood I have left, I leave my balls on the dashboard and get out at a gas station to ask directions.
9:10 - A biker gentleman tells me I need to keep on I-66 East and I will definitely hit Route 267. I feel like I'm going crazy.
9:25 - It starts to pour. I'd rather be navigating an underwater mine field without goggles than driving in this.
9:35 - I end up back at the Washington Monument...which is about 7 exits past my friends. I try and summon the spirits of Lincoln and Washington for guidance. It doesn't work.
9:45 - Back on I-66, I take an exit I've already taken before and pull into another gas station.
9:47 - The attendant finally says something that makes sense. The exit for Route 267 is actually the same exit for I-495 (which i passed like 8 times). I know exactly where it is! I think I might be saved!
9:55 - I take the exit for I-495 and badda bing badda boom, signs for 267. Why didn't they have these earlier?!?!
10:20 - I pull up to the hotel and do a Dale Earnhardt turn into the parking space. I see a police man outside. Oh no...my dad must have called the police after he couldn't get a hold of me. I mean I'm over 2 hours late. He must have thought I was lying in an ally somewhere...bruised and beaten...maybe even sexually abused.
10:22 - I walk past the cop and overhear him talking about a fender bender in the hotel parking lot. I guess the universe doesn't revolve around me.
10:25 - I walk in the hotel room and my dad and sister are watching TV. They just thought I had overslept.
We leave pretty much immediately for the Air and Space museum after I get back. I don't even have time to shower. But the museum turns out to be pretty cool and I thoroughly enjoyed myself. They even have a plane that flew from LA to DC in 1 hour 4 mins. Impressive, right? Here's a picture of it.
After a delicious lunch at Mcdonalds (interestingly the ONLY place to eat in the museum) we tour downtown DC for a bit and then hit the road. I never looked back.
As you might suspect, I'm not a huge fan of the District. But when my dad planned an impromptu family trip to the Air and Space museum this past weekend, I put my feelings aside (that doesn't happen to0 often) and figured spending some time with the fam would be a good change of pace.On the way down we hit major traffic on 95 south. For those who don't know me well, i feel a certain connection with this road. We have a bond. And it hurt that it didn't forewarn me of the impending sea of brake lights. Coming to a complete standstill, I grab my dad's iPhone to find an alternate route. 1 hour and 8 roads later I had a new found hatred for the iPhone map application firmly cemented in my head. Sure, it has GPS and a traffic tracker. But if it doesn't have a suspiciously sexy woman with a British accent telling me exactly where to go, I'll stick to the old school paper maps.
We roll into the Chinatown section of DC around 9:30pm and immediately head to a restaurant - my dad and my sister so they can get proper nourishment; me to get proper alcoholic hydration. We get seated at a window booth which I'm very excited about since its such a great spot to people watch. But my excitement quickly turned to dread as I notice a bum sleeping on a bench approximately 8 feet from our window. Great...this is gonna be an easy meal to eat. I sip my beer, which I let the waitress pick out for me. Note to self: When in doubt stick with the basics - miller lite, bud light, and yuengling. This waitress' taste in beer is worse than bret michaels' choice in women. I'm concerned that she has some yet to be discovered oral disease which causes her palette to function like a feral dog's.
After dinner I drop my dad and sister off at the hotel and visit a friend who lives in Arlington. We go to a bar which use to be a auto body shop. It was actually kinda cool. The first thing I notice are the copious amounts of license plates lining the establishment. The second thing I notice is the staggering amount of attractive people. This confirms my pre-existing belief that if you travel outside of Philadelphia in any direction people become progressively more attractive. If you travel to the East, there's the added benefit of also becoming exponentially more trashy. Sadly, I am too wrapped up in reminisces of past fraternity shenanigans to formulate a decent plan of approach. I go to bed having relived years of past experiences but failing to create even one new story. This is not something I like to occur often.
My alarm goes off at 7:45. I had promised my Dad I'd be back by 8:15 and its about a 30 minute drive. No snooze button for this guy. I hustle out of my friends apartment, jump in the car, and head out onto I-66 West. Here's a timetable of the events that occured from that point on.
8:00am - After 15 minutes of doing 80 mph it hits me that I definitely should have seen my exit by now. I get off the highway, get back on, and slow my speed to 60 mph.
8:20am - I pass my friends exit. There's no way I missed the exit AGAIN. Maybe im just confused and its Route 234 instead of Route 267. That could make sense
8:30 - I head back west and get off on Route 234. This road has street signs and I specifically remember the correct road being a highway.
8:31 - I make an aggressive u-turn and get back on I-66 West.
8:35 - I call my Dad. His phone is off.
8:55 - BJ's wholesale on my right. Definitely don't remember that. I exit and get back on I-66 east.
8:57 - Call my dad again. His phone is still off. I try looking up the hotel's phone number on my blackberry. My phone dies. Manic yelling ensues.
9:05 - I decide to try another exit. Route 160. Desperation is kicking in.
9:06 - Street lights again. Damn it...I am officially lost in an unfamiliar city.
9:08 - Disregarding whatever manhood I have left, I leave my balls on the dashboard and get out at a gas station to ask directions.
9:10 - A biker gentleman tells me I need to keep on I-66 East and I will definitely hit Route 267. I feel like I'm going crazy.
9:25 - It starts to pour. I'd rather be navigating an underwater mine field without goggles than driving in this.
9:35 - I end up back at the Washington Monument...which is about 7 exits past my friends. I try and summon the spirits of Lincoln and Washington for guidance. It doesn't work.
9:45 - Back on I-66, I take an exit I've already taken before and pull into another gas station.
9:47 - The attendant finally says something that makes sense. The exit for Route 267 is actually the same exit for I-495 (which i passed like 8 times). I know exactly where it is! I think I might be saved!
9:55 - I take the exit for I-495 and badda bing badda boom, signs for 267. Why didn't they have these earlier?!?!
10:20 - I pull up to the hotel and do a Dale Earnhardt turn into the parking space. I see a police man outside. Oh no...my dad must have called the police after he couldn't get a hold of me. I mean I'm over 2 hours late. He must have thought I was lying in an ally somewhere...bruised and beaten...maybe even sexually abused.
10:22 - I walk past the cop and overhear him talking about a fender bender in the hotel parking lot. I guess the universe doesn't revolve around me.
10:25 - I walk in the hotel room and my dad and sister are watching TV. They just thought I had overslept.
We leave pretty much immediately for the Air and Space museum after I get back. I don't even have time to shower. But the museum turns out to be pretty cool and I thoroughly enjoyed myself. They even have a plane that flew from LA to DC in 1 hour 4 mins. Impressive, right? Here's a picture of it.
After a delicious lunch at Mcdonalds (interestingly the ONLY place to eat in the museum) we tour downtown DC for a bit and then hit the road. I never looked back.
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