Saturday we meet a friend for lunch and a trip to the Renwick to see the glass exhibit. It is a large collection by Lino Tagliapietra. It's not Chihuly (Sorry, Lino, I'll be you hate getting compared) but the show is fairly brilliant and my glass-loving soul swells.
As the Renwick is across the street from the White House and it is gorgeous weather, we stroll around.
We smile at the protesters calling for Bush's arrest.
We don't smile at the sharpshooters on the roof.
We wander up a few blocks and peek in on some of the fancy hotels. We are clearly lookyloos as is evidenced by the reaction of the doorman at the Hay Adams. He hesitantly opens the door for us while asking: Do you have a question?
Um, do we have a question?
Yeah, we have a question: Are you profiling us?
He does let us in and we look around. It's pleasant. But we decide we like the lobby of the St. Regis better.
We ride the Metro back and at one stop a dozen people board our car.
Me, pointing at an envelope that is now on the floor a few feet in front of us: Look. That wasn't there a minute ago was it?
Hubby: No.
We contemplate it for a bit. No one is anywhere near it.
Me: You want it?
Hubby: No. ...You can get it.
Me: Suppose it's full of cash...
Hubby: Suppose it's full of anthrax...
With that I look up to see a man sitting across from me who is holding a bunched up t-shirt over his mouth like a mask, as if he doesn't want to breathe in whatever is in that envelope.
Hubby, sensing me react: What?
Me: That guy...
Hubby: That would be more of a sarin gas thing than an anthrax thing.
Me: Great.
After 30 seconds the man stops covering his mouth and then he looks like everyone else.
We leave the envelope where it is.
12 October 2008
"You take the good, you take the bad..."--The Facts of Life
Labels:
a typical Saturday in DC,
lookyloos,
metro,
Renwick,
Tagliapietra
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
10 comments:
I'd risk it. I would have been checking for the cash. Besides, anthrax doesn't kill EVERYbody.
lookyloos. nice, I like that term... I guess its true since on the metro, you were still lookyloos ;) Oh, and as for the envelope, there probably wasn't anthrax, that's too hard to make -- most likely ricin... or poisonous snakes
I don't worry about envelopes on the Metro...I worry about whether the Metro will actually arrive or whether there's another "situation" at some stop or another.
Have you ever been inside the White House? God. Ugliest house I've ever seen.
I just love the word "hubby."
I left that envelope with a message begging to be rescued from these kidnappers, but everybody ignored it. Thanks so much.
My hubby would have had that envelope opened ASAP and to heck with the Anthrax...he personifies the "Stingy Scot" theory
I got chastised last week for picking up an envelope and bringing it into our building. It looked like it had been dropped, was marked urgent and was addressed to someone in our building. It was all official in DHL package. It really looked like it had been dropped.
The security guards were NOT happy with us. We didn't mention that the return address was the Congo.
Mike: Still, probably best not to lick the flap.
Doug: Where is Samuel L. Jackson when you need him?
Bilbo: I'll bet you don't even try to act suspiciously.
Reya: I took the tour a few years ago but they let you into only 3 rooms. Re: "hubby", it's descriptive without being all obvious on the dangerous interwebs.
Abbotofunreason: Did you call a pay phone in the metro station, too?
Fiona: Ah, lost opportunities.
Kristin: Glad you survived it (the envelope and the security 'tude.)
I once forced The Ex to leave the Metro because there was a small brown bad unattended under a seat. I was convinced that we were ALL GOING TO DIE. He wasn't amused, but my incessant whining finally won out and we got off the train.
I guess you are not aware that Lino taught Chihuly everything he knows.
Post a Comment