Let me first make this disclaimer: Dad, if you're reading this, the story is ENTIRELY hypothetical.
Thursday started out wonderfully. After two months of hair disaster this summer, I finally left a hair salon smiling. Shortly after, when I got my eyebrows done, I looked like the *Big Smile* face on BlackBerry Messenger. So, feeling quite jazzy and confident, as sporting a fresh hair-do and a pretty dress usually makes me feel, I journeyed down to school for a Grad Life fair, a welcome from President Steven Knapp, and of course, free barbecue. I won't even pretend to claim that I am learning my way around the District. Just when I think I can predict my next move without prompting, Jeeves (my GPS) starts interrupting my radio: "Off-route. Recalculating. Recalculating. When possible, make a U-turn". Next thing I know, I'm at some other school with 'George' in its name, and a security guard is telling me to either show ID or leave the property.
Eventually, I did find a parking space, and popped into the grad life fair for some free pens and a wealth of suggestions on how to get involved. This was one of my primary goals that day, besides networking, so I felt like my 45 minute trek to campus was well worth it. The welcome from the President, and pinning ceremony for new graduate students, was a great way to begin my school year. I was nervous about being a new student, and I desperately want to feel like "one of them". But, it was stressed by everyone who addressed us that we are now and will forever be George Washington Colonials. I went over to the President and President-elect of the GW Alumni association to introduce myself and let them know how eager I am to become involved. Networking? Check!
Successful day! I thought to myself...after a plate of free food, I dipped out early to attend an "open house". I pulled up to the rowhouses somewhere in Northeast D.C., and saw a lady sitting on the stoop looking quite dejected and unbearably bored. As I walked up the steps, which were covered with leaves and dirt, I focused hard keeping a straight face, even though I wanted to scrunch it up in disgust. Was this guy serious? You actually put this place up for rent? You didn't even sweep the walkway, sir! Oh, but he was serious, and his proxy was there to assure me that the place could be ready for move in Labor Day weekend, if desired. Dude, there are paint cans in the bedroom. The paper blinds you pasted to the wall are falling off the wall. I'll pass.
I finally got out of there and decided after a long day, it was time to head back to the patch of Maryland I (temporarily) call home. The last stop was for gas. I realized early on that driving on the highway in the DMV is a lot different than south Florida. There are mostly trees and corn fields everywhere, so I couldn't even rely on getting gas at "the next exit." I may likely be pushing the car to the pump. Jeeves was yelling at me to make a u-turn, and proceed to the highlighted route but there was a sign for $2.59 on my left, and I had to make a few illegal turns so as not to miss my unleaded calling. I maneuvered Sparkle into the gas station. OK, Ce. Whip it around, gas tank's on the left. Reverse. Keep going, a little closer, back it up again and- BAM! My heart sunk as I looked up into the rearview mirror and saw the dark green dumpster staring back at me. Dammit. I pulled forward, and heard the metal bumper pop back into place. I practically ran to the rear of the car as if I was on the way to save a life, and searched frantically for the dent or smear on the bumper. Nothing! Praise His name. OK, so time to gas up. I pushed the gas tank lever, whipped out the debit card and....where's the card thingy? NO CREDIT CARDS ACCEPTED.
Really Washington?! Needless to say, I angrily closed the gas tank and sped off way over speed limit to find another gas station before I hit the highway. I finally found a BP, (they have better gas than the last place ANYway, I reassured myself), and got Sparkle some juice. I tried to stay mad, but the 5 o'clock RoadBlock mix on 92Q was playing the hits, and I couldn't help but laugh at my unfortunate circumstances of the day. So maybe I didn't find the perfect apartment, and maybe I haven't yet learned my way around the new city. But, my hair's fly, my car isn't dented, and I had a delicious free hotdog on Kogan Plaza while talking to a new friend. Life is good. And I won't complain.
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