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Posts Tagged ‘the bar is the best kind of reality tv’

Last night after a horrific loss at softball we trekked to the usual bar and proceeded to drown our sorrows.

This particular pub is often overrun in the summer with interns, students, and other young DC newbies. And, in the course of our drowning, we met one such newbie who eventually told his name was Steve.

No,” BNF said. “I’m not going to call you that. I’m going to call you Jor-El.

Jor-El was a pretty good sport, so he went along with it. Embraced it even. (By the end of the night, even the other guys in his program were calling him by the new nickname.) And then he played along with BNF’s next game.

We’re not going to tell you our names. You just tell us what you think we look like. First name that comes to your mind.

And that’s how I became a Jessica.

(Later he dubbed me Jezebel. I’m honestly not sure which I prefer.)

Now, before I get yelled at, I don’t have a problem with the name – for other people. But for me, after 26 years of identifying as something completely different, it just felt all sorts of wrong.

I’ve been toying for a while with the idea of putting my real name out here on the blog. I’m sure it’s probably dropped at some point and I’m friends with several bloggers on Facebook (and real life!) so I know that it’s not a complete secret.

But I figure there’s no time like a) my 500th post! today! and b) after being called the wrong name all night to officially reveal it.

So, hi! I’m Elizabeth.

Not Jezebel.

And definitely not Jessica.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

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Friday evening we were out with friends in Adams Morgan, just having drinks and a general good time. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Until she joined our group.

A couple of the guys had met her outside the bar, found her entertaining, and invited her inside for a drink. Harmless. And she was friendly enough. She spent most of the night talking to J and Sergio, but during a break in conversation, she sidled up to me and sat on the adjacent stool. She then leaned in, as though she had something super important to ask me, and I assumed she’d be asking me about the guys. But no.

I just have to tell you,” she said, “I have this huge desire to put elf ears on you. I think you’d look really great in them.

Is there a proper response to that? I looked around, wishing someone else had heard it, and kind of laughed awkwardly. And she continued.

I just think you have such a cute face for it, and it would be so perfect! You should really think about it.

I laughed again, and made another awkward comment about whether or not I could take that as a compliment.

You should! I’m a child of Tolkien,” she replied, “It’s totally a compliment! Just think about it for a costume some time.

And all throughout her comments she kept motioning to both her ears and mine, trying to demonstrate just how she thought the elf ears should be shaped or how high they should be.

Now, I know Adams Morgan attracts some oddballs, but this is the first time I’ve ever been approached about my ears.

And honestly, I hope it’s also the last.

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Let me clarify. I’m not in any way bashing the new-ish Columbia Heights bar. I actually love it. This was my second weekend in a row at the place, and I’ll definitely be going back.

The first floor, even though there is a bar, has more of a restaurant feel to it. When we first walked in, we were a little skeptical as to the set up, as it didn’t seem very conducive to just hanging out for a few drinks. And then we went downstairs.

Do you remember that kid from high school who had the awesome basement? He had a pool table, probably one other game like darts, or air hockey if you were really lucky, maybe ping pong, and just a lot of open space for people to hang out and talk and play and drink?

Well, Meridian Pint is like that, but with much better beer.

The downstairs has pool and shuffleboard and multiple TVs. There’s room to sit and room to stand, and you never really feel like you’re overcrowded, though you know that the place is packed. And the beer selection is so diverse that you’d feel like you were missing out if you had the same thing twice. Not to mention that there are actually taps at some of the tables. If for nothing else, I’ll be going back to try that.

And with all of this praise, it may seem odd that I said that the best part was leaving, but let me explain: Meridian Pint hires pedicabs.

Not us, but you get the idea.

Apparently, on Saturday nights (I don’t know if it’s all weekend or not – or how long they’re doing it for), the bar hires to pedicabs to be on standby to take people home. If you decide to hop a ride, you’re only responsible for the tip. I know it sounds like there’s a catch, but we couldn’t find one.

Our group was eight, so we split four and four in the two pedicabs (though, I think they were made for a max of three each). And that would have been fun enough, because 1) it’s free, 2) it’s like riding your bike, without any of the work, and 3) it was too nice a night to be stuck in a cab.

But our pedicab drivers made it even better, because they indulged the drunks they were transporting (i.e. us) and actually raced the entire way to Adams Morgan.

I have to be honest, there was a little part of me that felt like I was in a chariot.

Regardless, the trip from Meridian Pint to Adams Morgan, by way of pedicab, was one of the most enjoyable rides I’ve had in DC. I would almost venture that Meridian Pint is worth a visit for that alone, but the overall atmosphere really does stand on its own.

So if you do go on a Saturday, and decide to try the pedicab, see if you can ask for Bryan. Because I don’t care what the other group says – we totally won that pedicab race.

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I have a tendency to get a little competitive.

I can turn nearly anything into a competition – for better or worse – and, in turn, I get frustrated should I (or my team, if it’s a group effort) lose. This competitive spirit particularly comes into play in the summer – during softball season.

There is, of course, the competition on the field. But usually, there’s not too much bad yelling – unless you decide to be a little bitch and call yourself safe when you’re clearly at LEAST three inches off the bag and you’ve already been tagged.

Sorry, where was I?

Anyway. Softball is supposed to be fun, and most people take it as such, so I can usually keep myself in check. But afterward, well, afterward we go to the bar and inevitably play several rounds of flip cup. And drinking games introduce a whole different level of competition.

After our first scrimmage of the season, we did just that. Throughout the night, our game slowly grew bigger as other patrons of the bar asked to join in. One of them joined my team, and took up his flip cup spot next to me, as the anchor.

I don’t remember everything about the game, but I remember that he wasn’t doing so well (at ALL). And I remember that we were almost at the end, and I just wanted to win, and we were so close to winning but he lost it so I might have yelled at him. Something along the lines of, “What’s wrong with you?! What are you doing?!” During games, a sweetheart, I am not.

(I did, of course, immediately apologize, though, and he laughed it off – and, I think, stopped playing with us.)

Fast forward a couple weeks later, after our first real game, and we’re at the same bar. We started playing pool with a couple guys who were already there, and they asked if our softball team came there regularly. “I think I played flip cup with you all a couple weeks ago,” the one guy said to me. “Someone was yelling at me a lot.

I immediately chalked it up to our resident Flip Cup King, and started explaining how he takes the game really seriously, and can be a little mean sometimes, until a light dawned and I realized, “Oh my god…that was me, wasn’t it?” The kid (college junior, whatever) nodded, and told me, “Yeah, you were really mean that night. In your defense, though, I was playing terribly.

But all I could think was that he clearly still remembered my yelling from two weeks before.

I just hope I didn’t scar him permanently.

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Thank you guys for everything yesterday. It was just what I needed. But more distractions are still (and always) welcome.

In the meantime, I feel compelled to share with you a video that a friend showed me the other week, that had me laughing out loud. Who knew history could be so entertaining?

And that’s just Volume One. Out of four.

What I want to know is how he got the actors involved. And when the next volume is coming out. There’s still so much left to learn!

Happy Friday! Get ready for the snow!

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I don’t know who exactly in the office was responsible for choosing Thursday as the night for the holiday party, but I’d like to find out. And suggest that they try very hard for a Friday next year.

Even after the deliciousness that was my bacon, egg and cheese breakfast sandwich, and the Aleve that’s trying so hard to work its way through my body, I’m still not quite at 100%. I am, however, enjoying the recap with some coworkers about both the party and the after party.

One highlight from the party (aside from the fantastic food – crab cakes, bacon wrapped dates, mini pizzas – *drool*), was a conversation between a few of us and El Jefe, where we tried to convince him to give us today off. “So, you don’t mind if we come in late then?” we kept trying to confirm, after he implied that he would at least look the other way if we weren’t at our desks by 9am sharp. “But do you pinky swear?” Miche asked, holding out her little finger.

He really wasn’t quite sure how to respond.

As the official party was winding down, we began the round-up for the after party. It’s always a challenge to see just how many senior staffers we can get to come out with us, and last night was no exception. I was working on getting one of our associate directors to join, and it was obvious she wanted to. She kept looking at her husband and saying, “Are you sure? If I go, you can’t be mad at me.

Go for it,” he said.

You should probably get him to sign something, so he doesn’t get mad at you later,” I joked. And with that, she grabbed a card from the table and a pen from her purse and wrote:

I, Ken, promise not to be mad at Barbie for going out tonight.

Sign here – – ->

And because, as I’m learning, men never grow up, he took it, took the pen, signed it and chuckled. And it read:

Sign here – – – > Blo Me

How sweet. I bet she fell in love with him all over again after that.

Wuv…twue wuv…

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go chug some water so I’ll be in any sort of shape to be social again tonight.

Rough life, I know.

Happy Friday!

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I’m in 9-4 meeting today and, I suppose, if I look on the bright side, that meeting has two perks:

1) Free lunch!
2) By the time I get out, there’s only an hour left until my holiday party!

And I’ll probably appreciate the party even more then.

In any case, in light of all the upcoming holiday parties, please take time to review last year’s things to avoid (inspired by The Office):

1) Setting your hair on fire.

There’s always a risk when you mix alcohol and fire (think: candles, lighters, one of those crazy shots that I’m too scared to do), but do your very best to avoid this hazard. Burning hair smells terrible, and you kind of ruin the party for everyone else – especially when they have to put you out.

2) Staging an impromptu intervention.

It’s a holiday party! Yes, most people will be drinking, and may imbibe more than normal. But this is not a time to sit in a circle and voice your concerns about one person’s behavior. Especially not when you can be standing by the bar with a coworker and judging several people at once. It’s called efficiency.

3) Blurting out a coworker’s secret in front of the entire room.

Sure, the imagined satisfaction of stunning the rest of your coworkers with a juicy tidbit might be momentarily overwhelming. But think of how much more you could do if you just hang on to that secret, and use it at a more opportune time. Like when people are sober enough to remember it the next day.

As always, please feel free to add your own.

I need this job for at least another year.

Update: Guess who got out of her meeting early, and still gets a free lunch?! Yay!

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