One would think that telling your friends to meet you under the giant silver tree would assist with your meetup. Sadly, not during Jazz in the Garden when you are trying to find a blond girl who is sitting with a few of her friends and people are packed in around the trunk tighter than traffic on the 95 at 4:30 on a holiday weekend.
For what it’s worth, jazz is not my genre, Frankly, I’d rather listen to a plane load of cranky two year olds all yelling different things at the same time. And come to think of it, that’s kind of what some of those songs sounded like. Maybe sitting right next to the speaker was not the right seat for me. But we did have a few giant pitchers of Sangria and that helped to dull the throbbing pain in my ears.
We drank more Sangria. A lot more.
And then Sharlene’s new friends had to go. They were off to Virginia. Evelyn and I parted ways with Sharlene as well and ventured on to Truckaroo.
Truckaroo is a food truck extravaganza at the Washington Nationals Stadium. The circle the trucks and in the center is a stage with a band playing real music. Really loud real music! We caught the Metro over and headed right in for a delicious lobster roll before calling it a night and heading home. Evelyn was leaving for Brooklyn at the crack of dawn and it was already pretty late.
One would think that would be the end of the evening, no? Sadly, there was track work on the yellow line and the Metro dumped us out at Pentagon City. The herded us onto a “fee shuttle” that was supposed to take us the final two stops to Braddock Street. Theoretically, we could have made the trip in less than 10 minutes. Unfortunately, the bus driver must have been drunk too and took a wrong turn and ended up taking the GW Parkway in the opposite direction. Those of you who don’t live here may not know this, but once you get on the GW Parkway heading in the wrong direction, it’s nearly impossible to get off until you get to Maryland. Which is exactly what happened to us. thankfully, the crowd on the bus was good natured and we amused ourselves by pulling the “stop requested” cord repeatedly, imagining how long it would take us to find restrooms if we ever did stop, and comparing our tats.
I love this city!