And she is LOVING IT.
I have always loved DC. It’s the bomb. If I could end up anywhere in the world, it’d be a weird version of DC where it never went above 70 degrees Fahrenheit.
I spent just under a year living here when I was in 2nd grade – it technically wasn’t DC at al, it was a town called Arlington, and it’s in Virginia, but it’s almost literally a stone’s throw from DC.
I usually come here 2 or 3 times a year – it’s where my dad lives, and the State Department is here, aka the mothership for all foreign service families. Plus, my top two choices for colleges are in DC, so, yeah, I know the city, it’s my place, I belong here.
I’m here for 2 or 3 weeks this time, and there is lots to do on the schedule.
Today, we went on a Segway tour of DC. Let me say that again for emphasis. A SEGWAY tour of DC. Do you know what a Segway is? No? Here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Segway
Yeah. I can’t even describe the concept–it was wicked. It was cool. It was bitchin’. And if Segways didn’t cost $5000 (yeah, five thousand dollars. I’m not kidding) and were more than kinda a pointless toy, I’d be all OVER that shit.
So, we hurried (we thought we were late) down to McPherson Square (an area/Metro stop in DC – by the way, Metro = the subway. That’s what it’s called here. If you live here, or have visited here, it’s, like, impossible to NOT take the Metro somewhere). There was some initial freakout over whether or not we could wear flip flops on the Segways, but it turned out to be fine.
The reason I wanted to wear flip flops so badly was because a) the only tennis shoes I have are high tops and I can only wear jeans with those because they look stupid with shorts and IN CONJUCTION WITH a), is b), which is that it was a MILLION FUCKING DEGREES and only a NUTJOB would even CONSIDER wearing jeans in this heat. I declared myself NOT a nutjob and wore shorts and flip flops and it was all good. But turns out, I was a nutjob. We were all nutjobs. Because we made one very, very crucial mistake today.
We went outside.
Screw the heat advisory! we said. That’s for WIMPS! We’re gonna cruise around town on our sexy Segways and be OH-SO-FLY and anyways, it can’t be THAT hot.
Turns out, it was that hot.
I don’t know if it was because the Segways move in a hella-weird way, I don’t know if it was my attempt at taking pictures while ON a Segway, I don’t know if it was because I was on my period, and I don’t know if it was because, like I said, it was a hot as a BITCH out there, but for some reason, as we pulled up on the stairs of the Capitol building, looked down towards the Washington Monument and, beyond that, the Lincoln Memorial, I was overcome by a wave of nausea.
Remembering what the nice (cute) guys in the Segway store had told us about getting off the things, I grabbed the handlebar of the Segway with my left hand and stepped onto the ground, my vision swirling and seeing spots. Yanking the earbuds the tourguide gave us so we could hear his commentary out of my ears, I ripped off my (very stylish) helmet and (sexy as hell) sunglasses, I mumbled something to my dad, shoved the segway at the tourguide, and took a seat on the steps of the capital. It’s so hot, was all I was thinking. Sweat dripped down my forehead. My hands shook. I was fine, I told myself. It’s just hot. A few sips of water, I sucked it up and stood up. Dammit, I was going to FINISH this tour if it was the last thing I did. I made my way back to my Segway, asked for my gear back from my dad, and I was about to put it on, felt another, far worse wave rush to my head.
My dad grabbed my arm. All I could see was white. It looked to be about ten feet to the steps. It was fewer. I felt the top step with my foot and sank to my ass. Head between my knees, I took deep breaths as my dad rubbed my back. Oh, god, I thought.
And then I puked on the steps of the Capitol building.
My dad told me later that puke actually came out of my nose. I vaguely recall that happening, but all I was thinking was, Pancakes. Why did I have so many pancakes? Look. My pancakes. They’re on the ground. Ground pancakes.
When it was all over, the first thing I felt was cold on the back of my neck. A concerned security guard (they’re all over DC, a common sight, especially around the governmental buildings) had come over with an icy bottle of water and plunked it there, after which he just stood around awkwardly, repeatedly asking me if I “needed medical assistance”. I assured him I didn’t, told my dad I always feel better after puking, and insisted that we continue the tour. My dad also told me later that cute Aaron, our tour guide, was frantically gesturing “no” at him behind my back at this comment, but whatever.
My dad and I decided to get in a cab and go home, leaving Tony with Aaron to finish the tour and take the Segways back (Aaron turns out to be very skilled with the Segways and was able to drag my and my dad’s back to the store. Not easy stuff). As we walked (very slowly) away from the Capitol, the security guard (R. Weatherbee, his nametag said. Yeah, I took notice of that. How could you not?) offered to help once more, but by this point I was just super embarrassed and wanted to leave. I was actually feeling fine – everyone feels better after throwing up. I mostly felt guilty – I had been wanting to do the Segways for a few years now, and they’re not cheap, but it was just a bad combination of circumstances that led to my temporary demise.
As we left, I saw Weatherbee walking with some orange cones towards where I had *inaugurated* (my dad’s joke, not mine), which was good, because for some reason these tourists (very California-y ones) were standing RIGHT NEXT TO ME WHILE I was puking and then didn’t move afterwards. Which was weird, but, you know, everyone’s family is different.
In the cab on the way home, the nice Sheik cab driver cranked the AC for us and I started to feel better, but for some reason, I couldn’t stop sneezing. I must have sneezed twenty times in the fifteen minute cab ride. At one point, the cab driver (HUGE turban, long white beard) actually turned around in his seat and looked at me, horrified. He offered me a “napkin”, which I accepted, and he turned around shaking his head. If you’ve seen Pirates of the Carribean 3 (which you better have), he reminded me a lot of one of the pirate lords – “And SO, we shall GO, to WAR!”.
So, all’s well that ends well. My dad and I got home and watched the end of the first Narnia movie, and Tony got home some time later. Tony was pretty horrified by the whole thing – I caught a glimpse of him as I was being led away from the scene of the crime, and he was wide-eyed and pale. When he got home, he complimented me on my choice of location for the big event – centered on the steps of the Capitol and therefore directly in line with the entire Washington National Mall.
Hey, if you have to toss your cookies in public, at least be symmetrical.
