Sunday, October 30, 2005


With a friend, on our way out from the restaurant, around midnight, we are walking behind two women, one of them clearly drunk. She is walking barefoot, her shoes in her hand. The other is not completely sober but at least she walks with her shoes on. They are soon met by friends, or at least a couple with whom they are friendly. Just before entering a party at Child Harrold in Dupont Circle, I see the woman stop to put on her shoes. She will not enter the party barefoot. She is probably not as drunk as it seems.

We soon get to my friend's car and she is insisting to driving me back home. We drive for less than half a mile when we come across a procession of costumed men. Some more happy than others. They waive and one of them comes up to the car. I can't find the switch to roll down the window. I hear him yelling "Are you afraid? Open the window!" I smile and when finally the window does get rolled now, I force my French accent as if this will explain everything (maybe it does). "Sorrrrry! I didn't know how to open ze window!" He blows a kiss to both of us and leaves happy. We roll the windows back up and take another road home.


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