A funny thing happened on the way to almost everywhere…

I don’t think that I mentioned that my travel to and from Washington DC was on a bus. It was very cost efficient and comfortable, and I would definitely use the company again. There was one small hitch in the trip down, about 10 minutes after going through the Lincoln Tunnel the bus had to be pulled into a rest stop because of a transmission issue. The bus was apparently buzzing and after about a half hour of radio back and forth between our very apologetic driver and headquarters, it was decided that the bus could make the trip down and didn’t need a replacement. 5 or so hours later, we pulled in to Washington just in time because the bus began to buck. These things happen, nobody’s fault, and again it didn’t ruin the trip but it was very odd.


On Saturday, during the never ending quest to find the National Cathedral, Lauren and I got separated. That is to say the Metro doors closed between us, leaving me on the platform. Unlike the New York subways, which have doors that pop open if you put an arm or purse in between them, the Metro doors will cut your limb in half or leave your bag hanging. We had been warned not to try and hold doors open so instead we stood on opposite sides of the glass mouthing “one stop” to each other and holding up one finger. It was all very funny in retrospect. Twenty minutes later we met up at the next stop in one piece.


That night, on the way back from the Cathedral we aimed to get on the Metro, but ended up on the Looney Toon express. Picture this, our train car consisted of an older couple, a 20 or 30 something year old woman, a man with a camera, a group of drag queens, and Lauren and I. The guy with the camera says he wants to take a picture of the couple and the older man puts up his leg on the hand rail like a stripper. Kind of cute. Then the young woman says that she will show him how it’s done a spins around the poll. At the same time the drag queens begin walking up and down like they are on a run way until they star dancing, followed by old man attempting the spin around as the man photographs it all. When it’s all done the older couple tells the photographer to “facebook” them so they can see the pictures before existing and the drag queens begin to discuss how one of them isn’t out at work (I guess he does drag for sport.) I know you probably can’t believe any of this because I was there and I’m not sure it actually happened.


All of our Sunday travel was pretty mild in comparison; we did meet a former New York cab driver. We always manage to find a New Yorker excited to talk about “back home.”