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Post details: Birthday Shower

Birthday Shower

When it comes to irrigating the parched throats, Washington has more than a fair share of the world's drinkeries. Many of them are located in a little district known as Adams Morgan, which is well stacked with pubs and clubs and is therefore heavily frequented by partiers of all ages. You can choose from a wide assortment of watering holes from elegant venues, such as the Reef, where exotic fish will entertain you in rows of aquariums and turquoise tones fill the place with visual blues, to older and warmer places, like Madam's Organ, just across the street, where you can often hear the acoustic version of blues.

My friend's sister celebrated her 21st birthday today, so we thought that Adams Morgan would be a perfectly appropriate place where to introduce her to pleasures of unrestrained alcohol consumption. We took subway from Falls Church and disembarked duly at the Adams Morgan station, which is just across a bridge from the actual Adams Morgan. (by the way, what a strange word disembark is - embark sort of implies that you are getting onto some kind of a bark and only to be momentarily kicked away by the roguish "dis")

When we got out of subway, it was raining cats and dogs and pet iguanas, and for a while we stood stranded under the station's canopy. But when it became clear that there is no shortage of domesticated animals in the sky, we started to look around and spotted a CVS presumably stacked with a wide assortment of umbrellas. Well, our hopes were sort of satisfied by a kind of black, mildly dysfunctional and overpriced article Made in China, but after merely one exchange we were able to nudge it to reasonable functionality and felt adequately protected to brave the elements.

With renewed confidence in the success of our mission, we strutted onto the bridge. So far so good. Rain was coming down hard, but our umbrellas did a pretty good job at keeping it at bay. In our youthful folly, we assumed that above is the only direction water could get to us from. In good faith, we sauntered on when all of a sudden - whack! Not a droplet, or a spray, but a thick sheet of water slapped our backs. I turned around to see what had just happened and whack! Another wall of water hit my front. By this time I could see two narrow strips, about 5 square inches total, of dry textile on me - and the rest was completely soaked. There was no place to escape on the narrow bridge, and our garments became the mopping rags as puddle after puddle was being emptied into their fabric, courtesy of the aggressive drivers. Water was dripping from all the extremities of our clothes. To say that we were liquidized would constitute a bit of a stretch, but after we took few more hits from the watering a**-holes, we reached the liquidity level that many of the US banks would be quite envious of.

When a person is born in this country, he or she has to spend the next 21 years shielded from alcohol. As we were standing there on the bridge to Adams Morgan, wet to the bone, I though it was a proper celebration of one dry period that was just about to end.


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