I had to go to D.C. last week for work. Really mind-numbing work that any monkey with an above average I.Q. could pull off, but the boss thought I needed to be said monkey. I had successfully fought off work related travel since well before the boy was born, so I was due.
My hotel (the Marriott Renaissance) was just a couple of blocks from the Chinatown metro stop, so I figured I could hop over to Chinatown and have some pretty decent Chinese food. (Or what in China they call "food.")
Walking down the street filled with signs written in Chinese (could have been Klingon, I didn't look that hard,) I see a big Guinness sign. Odd, I think.
Sure enough, right smack in the middle of Chinatown is an Irish pub. (Fadó to be exact.) I elected to have the Fish & Chips and a couple of Guinness and fore go the Dim Sum.
This would have been a pleasant experience except for the Justice Department drones who took up residency next to me at the bar. As you might expect, they were loud, obnoxious and paying more attention to their BlackBerry/SmartPhone than who they were spilling their twelve dollar a glass Cabernet on. After lengthly discussions on who slept with whom to get their promotion, what they expect of their assistants and a disgraceful display of who makes how much more than whom, my already low opinion of them dropped several points to where I now regard them as just below a guy who kicks puppies through a box fan.
