HC and I looked at houses on the Hill on Monday. We should have known that this was less than a stellar idea, but you know, we don’t think ahead. And probably a good thing we don’t think ahead because we found a house we love (or maybe it’s just me who loves it) and want to bid on. So that’s good.
But this little jaunt onto the Hill brought more inauguration drama.
If Disney World is the happiest place on earth (which I still contend is just not true – I mean, have you been to that place?!), Union Station was the unhappiest place on earth this week. (Okay, clearly there are other places in the running, but just go with it.)
In its infinite wisdom, the powers that be here in DC decided to make it absolutely impossible to get into the Union Station metro stop. At every turn, some official looking person with a weapon of mass destruction (I still am not clear what those large guns are supposed to do other than intimidate), told us to go this way or go that way – each time contradicting each other. It was sorta like we were Dorothy asking the Scarecrow for directions. If I only had a brain….
So after walking in a gigantic circle at Union Station – with a gazillion tourists who had less of an idea of what was going on then we did, who felt it necessary to just stop still to take in the sites like Auntie Anne’s and Sbarro’s – we decided to walk. Trust that I was less than thrilled at the prospect of walking to Dupont – again – in two days. Again, it’s not the distance. The walk itself is not so bad. But with the newly-earned blisters, I was really worried.
Luckily, with the use of a BlackBerry and google maps, we were able to find an alternate metro route home. But it’s clear that things are a hot mess in this town.