Georgetown Memories

A random memory that popped into my head this morning:

Our last summer at Georgetown was an especially pleasant one. My two best friends and I had steady jobs, steady income, and the motivation to go bouncing randomly around the city. Every Friday, we went out drinking to celebrate the end of another work week. If it was a payday Friday, we’d take the bus and Metro to Tortilla Coast and down pitchers of margaritas and palomas with our dinner. If it wasn’t a payday Friday, we’d go to Mr. Smith’s of Georgetown for the happy hour specials. Half-price appetizers and $1.50 well drinks meant we could get sloshed and fat for under ten bucks.

Toward the end of summer we started to get antsy about the start of the school year, which meant the loss of our elevated income and therefore, our booze cruises around the city. It also meant we had to worry about moving Jen and Irma into their school-year apartments from their summer dorm assignments. On one of our last Fridays out to Tortilla Coast, Jen, Irma and I were standing at the bus stop awaiting the 5:40 to Rosslyn and talking about moving. Out of nowhere, Irma gets a mischevious gleam in her eye, and says to me in a conspiratorial tone, “We’re gonna have an STD tomorrow!”


“Why, what are we doing tonight?” I asked with trepidation.

Irma looked at me like I’d just grown a second head on my shoulders.

“I said we’re going to have an SUV tomorrow.”

And indeed, the next morning, we were renting a Ford Explorer to help schlep the girls’ stuff to their new homes.

Ah, the joys of being phonologically inept.


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