Tuesday, January 18, 2005


Well, it's Inauguration Week again, that time of year that brings mouthbreathing sycophants by the score to the area to freeze their asses off in dresses so heinous that I wouldn't staunch a wound with them, DC rekindles its on-again, off-again passion for jersey barriers, and Adam Eidinger meets that special someone who turns out to be a Secret Service agent assigned to watch what he's up to at all times. But whether you're in town for the unique pageantry, are a die-hard supporter of the President or are just a visiting reporter hoping to cadge a few table scraps from the NeoCon Koolaid Ball, The DCeiver wishes you the same sentiment we offer to all visitors from hither and yon: stand on the right side of the escalator, take whatever it is you came for, and then get the fuck out.

This weekend, The DCeiver stalked around town, celebrated birthdays, prepared for what is sure to be a life-altering performance in a Studio Theatre directing scene entitled The Girl Who Had a Spider in her Vagina, and generally got out of the house as Wife of DCeiver and best friend Amy spent the entire weekend celebrating their nostalgic past by watching the ENTIRE EFFING NORTH AND SOUTH MINISERIES, including the awful, AWFUL, UNFUCKINGGODLY Book 3.

One of the highlights of the weekend was meeting my first tsunami survivor, who was in Thailand when it all went down and ended up clinging to some sort of piling for dear life. I met her at my friend Susan's birthday celebration at a bowling alley in Alexandria (oddly enough, she will be going to Indonesia herself in a year or so). The story she told was unbelievable, weirdly fascinating, and harrowing as hell. All we can say is: wow. Jeez. Hope everyone out there in readerland finds that sort of survival instinct if you ever need it. Now, as time passes, many of you out there are likely to have the same experience of meeting someone who was there when the tragedy of our lives occurred and somehow got out. One thing you'll wonder is: "Wow. What do I say to someone who has survived the tsunami?" Here are some things you don't say:

"Dude. That is a tsunamilicious tale of disaster!"

"Congratulations, you lucky dog!"

"Here's your merit badge in tsunami survival, camper!"

"Did you bring me anything from Thailand?"

We recommend a simple: "I'm glad that you are okay." Or maybe, "Can I wear you around my neck to this job interview I have next week?" But only if you are really underqualified for that job.

Later on that night, we were at another birthday celebration at Bedrock Billiards on Columbia. We hope YOU were all at the Juniper Lane show. Though many of you clearly weren't, judging by how crowded Adams Morgan was despite the frigid temperatures. We were nicely nestled underground at Bedrock celebrating the DCepticon's birthday, who joked at one point that if a bomb went off, an entire middle strata in the DC theatre community would be killed instantly, leaving DC's theatre scene teetering at least until Towson graduated another class in May.

Actually, we were very lucky to get in, because apparently the joint was so busting to capacity that late in the evening they were only letting the birthday boys well-wishers enter long enough to say Happy Birthday. At least one other celebrant, who drove all the way from Baltimore, was turned away at the door for not bringing his ID. Now, look. The DCeiver's been known to occasionally--rarely--leave his home without his ID...but to leave your HOMETOWN without your ID? WTFIT? Who does that?

Around the corner from us, at The Diner, the staffs of that restaurant and their buddies at Tryst were dealing with idiots of another stripe. Apparently, two patrons waiting in line at The Diner got into a domestic dispute that touched off some sort of street-clearing conflagration that brought the bouncers, cops and staffs of Tryst out on the sidewalk in an orgy of jumbo slice fueled mayhem. We imagine it went down like this:

SHE: Mmmm. I love The Diner's Macaroni and Cheese.

HE: What? Why are you always giving props to their Mac and Cheese?

SHE: I just think that The Diner's unique blend of cheeses and hearty macaroni pasta is a taste treat that's out of this world!

HE: You never say shit about the Mac and Cheese I make for you at home.

SHE: Shee-yit. You can keep that sorry-ass Kraft Dinner outta my face.

HE: Awwwww, snaaap! It's on, bitch! *Pow* *Kiff*

SHE: OOOOOHHH!! My face!! My beautiful face!! OWWWWW! BASTARD!! Try the buffalo chicken wings for a tasty appetizer! OUUUUUCH! AAAAAAAGHH!

Anyway, it was apparently quite the tilt. We're sorry we missed it, but, crap, it was cold outside.

Confidential to the girl in front of Woodley Park Metro: Um, what you did was unBELIEVABLY gross. Just stomach turning. We only barely vouch for the jumbo slice at ALL, let alone one that you find laying there on Connecticut Avenue. Fucking grotesque. I hope you enjoy the thrush.

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