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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