Every Wednesday since I moved to DC, I sleep in, make coffee, make something for breakfast, and then attend my research seminar on the first floor. Wednesdays provide a nice break in the middle of my busy week; plus, it's a day off from working my internship. Last Wednesday, however, began with a much later than usual wake-up, and I had a rough start as soon as I wiped the sleep from my eyes.
Waking up later than expected was largely attributed to the fact I was out celebrating a birthday very late into the night, so I had no time for making breakfast or waiting for the coffee to brew. I couldn't even take a shower before class, so I threw on some clothes as quickly as possible, got a few things together for class, and headed to the nearest Starbucks for a very large coffee.
I typically do not frequent any coffee shops nearby the Center because we (The Guys in 608) brew our own, but I remembered there was a Starbucks only two blocks away. I headed straight there.
As I rounded the corner, I noticed all of the furniture had been moved onto the patio right by the front entrance. I immediately thought to myself, "Shit, it's like 9:45am, and I need to be back at the Center for class in fifteen minutes." More importantly, I thought, was where the hell another Starbucks was and how I desperately needed coffee to cure my hangover--waking me up for my three hour class.
So, with a quick search on my coveted BlackBerry, I found another location for caffeination not far away (And by the way, 'decaffeination' is a word but 'caffeination' is not? Bullshit. It is now.). Now walking in double-time and struggling with my hangover twice as bad, I was on my way to Dupont Circle for a red eye.
As I walked up Connecticut Avenue in quick pursuit, my headache intensified with an instant flood of sirens making their way towards me. Motorcycle after motorcycle and car after car, the motorcade approached the intersection where I had Starbucks in my sights. Instead of walking the zebras, I waited a full thirty seconds for this parade of red and blues to pass, sirens blaring, only to find myself catching a quick glimpse of the POTUS in the back of his Cadillac One.
I'm no sucker for a glimpse of anyone--especially when I've seen them before--but only in DC will my right-of-way be impeded on to let the presidential motorcade through.
I guess that's one right I'm willing to give up while living in DC.