Hello, Mr. President
Image by erin m
I’ve been having a generally weird week, and it’s only Monday. I lost at Scrabble tonight, ate too much food, talked too much at dinner, and still managed to head out of Metro with a smile on my face because a favorite Voxtrot song came on my iPod. So highs and low there, ok?
But nothing about that manic evening could really compare to running into this guy on the walk home from Metro. I saw him coming from a few yards away, as we approached each other from opposite sides of the judiciary building by Union Station.
"Can I ask why," I asked.
"It’s Presidents’ Day," he said. "What do you do for Presidents’ Day?" The tone suggested that whatever I did today, it was insufficiently respectful of our founding fathers.
He let me take a picture, and he even suggested a spot for better lighting. He was on his way to a karaoke party (!), where he planned to sing The Proclaimers’ "I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles)." I said something stupid about the word "haver," and he was on his way.
And that is why I love this city.