T-to-the-A

Land of the Sticky and its Hungry, Hungry, Hippos

In Essays, The Daily Drool on September 5, 2009 at 8:18 pm

D.C. is a hot sticky mess.  It’s monuments offer thrills aplenty, but the air outside wraps its humid tendrils around you with relish, sucking the exuberance from your steps like a sponge.  The sun burns hotter- as if magnified by each shimmering water molecule suspended above – driving the moisture from your brow as though it were of little consequence… leaving you parched with every step even though you’re already practically swimming.

And I’ve apparently arrived during a dry spell!

But I’ve got to say, once that sun goes down and the sky throws up it’s pink and orange curtains and the cool night air kisses you goodnight… it’s kind of lovely.  As long as you’re in the right neighborhood.

And far away from the hippos.

You see, the men here are shopping – and they don’t mind letting you know.

My friend took me to a D.C. bar last night to celebrate her and her boyfriend’s birthdays- not only do they adore and totally compliment one another but they share the same date of birth! – so what could be more fun then to tip a glass to their mutual happiness?  It was a cool place- very low key and fun – but the men… oh, the men!

You know those post-apocolyptic movies where the men are nearly gone wild with hunger and dirt and women are scarce… and then inevitably some half starved female stumbles into their midst and, like, the world ends again?  Because they all go INSANE?  Well, now I know what that woman feels like… she feels like committing harikari rather than have one more stranger place his hand on her shoulder, knee, or hand as he apes for her attention!

Perhaps I’ve been in LA for too long, where men are so inundated with lovely ladies that their favorite come-on is the “I’ll ignore her so hard, she’ll have to come over and take her clothes off.” routine.  But I’ve never seen so many men so obvious in their attentions and so… persistent.  And those who know me know that I am NOT a fan of fast-track-familiarity… I, in fact, loathe it.  But here were several immediately friendly guys, and I kind of felt like bait trapped in a pond full of hungry guppies.  I found myself in awe at their bold-as-hell manuevers!

In awe, but not in-spired.

So I make it back to my friend’s place and I tuck myself into bed, relieved to be alone after such a crazy night, and although it was a little weird and ultimately too much for my tastes, I had to admit that the singles scene in D.C. seemed a lot more direct and in favor of the women… so much so that I couldn’t help but say- All you single ladies out here, if you don’t mind mosquitos and extreme humidity, the men here?  They are a bitin’!

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