SBRT Day 7-9: Washington, DC

With delicious Philly cheesesteaks settling in on the walls of our arteries, we pull in to a cozy little suburb of Washington, DC known as Alexandria, VA.  It kinda blows my mind that all the suburbs of DC are in different states.  Our host, Tyler, will be at a St. Patty’s day festival for a couple more hours, so Steve & I decide to explore downtown Alexandria.  We’re searching for wireless internet, TVs with college basketball playing, and food.  After passing about 20 antique stores and 0 wifi-enabled cafes or bars, we were directed to a wifi hotspot in a little cafe/grocery store with bar-appropriate signs like “Beer: It’s what’s for dinner” on the walls.  After catching up with the rest of the world, we headed to a bar called Rock-It Grille for some dinner and college basketball.

Little do we know, there is much more than burgers and hoops in store for us at this place.  As we finish up our meal, a DJ starts setting up in the corner of the bar, and announces that karaoke is going on tonight!  (Now if you aren’t aware of my undeniably unhealthy obsession with karaoke, I’m not really sure what you’re doing reading my blog.  My name’s Baylee, I’m on a road trip, I love karaoke.  Nice to meet you.)  So after carefully considering the venue, the crowd, and my unusually high level of sobriety (for karaoke, that is), I decide to try a challenging song: Hook, by Blues Traveler.  It’s fast and melodic, so the sober part is good, and it’s sort of twangy, which matched with the 3 or 4 cowboy hat wearers that aren’t getting laughed at in the bar.  I come up fourth, and immediately realize why karaoke only happens in bars, and only after most people are already drunk.  Although Steve makes a valiant attempt to convince me otherwise, I am certain that I bombed.  It’s probably not the first time I’ve bombed a karaoke song, but it is the first time that I’ve been sober and have therefore noticed.  I vow to prove myself a karaoke master before the end of the night by putting on a better performance. 

In a while Tyler and Hoffy (another friend living in the DC area) show up to the bar, with Irish car bombs in tow.  In addition to being St. Patty’s Day weekend, this drink is appropriate because Irish car bombs are what Hoffy bought my on my 21st, which was probably one of the most recent times I’ve drank with him.  So with those and a couple beers under my belt, I belt out Danger Zone by Kenny Loggins.  It is well received and I feel that I can move on from Alexandria with my karaoke rep intact. 

The next day is laid back—college basketball, Steve hits up the driving range for a couple hours, etc.  We order a pizza for dinner, and another friend from college, Mary, joins us to catch up.  She tells of her Teach for America job where kids throw chairs out windows, and we all get a little perspective on both our high school experience and our jobs.  When she leaves, we bust out the Scategories and wrap up the evening with some classic family fun. 

The next morning we head out from Tyler’s into Washington DC proper for the first time.  Steve drops me off at the national mall, and I walk around the big monuments and take pictures while he meets his brother for lunch.  The picture below is taken from inside of the half-dried up reflecting pool.  It’s representative of the state of our nation in a vaguely depressing way that I can’t put my finger on.  Someone else give it a shot in the comments.