Friday night I met up with Regina, joined by my roommate for the conference, a one Dr. Amy, pediatrician. This was probably the first time I'd been out to an actual bar with only girls. We were first approached by a very adorable, preppy 21-year-old civil engineering student and his buddies. Regina introduces herself as working in intelligence, and "These two are both DOCTORS!" Amy and I do our best to melt into the floor; the doctor thing is something most of us try to keep on the down-low in social situations.
Well, the CE student was trying to impress us with various tales, not the least of which was a survey competition he'd recently won. Eventually he guessed my age at 24, and then was suitably shocked at the truth. Dr. Amy (remember, she's the pediatrics resident) restrained herself from commenting that she could be their doctor. Good times.
Regina ended up deep in conversation with another guy on Iraqi politics. As this would be a lenghthly conversation, Amy and I looked about to discover something else to do. She ended up inadvertantly stealing a stool from a neighboring male, and a conversation ensued.
"Where are you from?"
"New Mexico. We're in town for a union conference"
"What kind of union?"
"What do you do?"
(We exchange glances.) "Um, we work in a hospital."
"We're part of the health care team."
"Um, yeah, sort of."
(Exchange glances again, bright idea occurs to us both)
Me: "What do YOU do?"
"We work for the Air Force."
Me: "Doing what?"
Cute Guy #1: "Fly stuff."
Me: "What kind of stuff?"
(Cute guy #2 and Cute Guy #2 exchange glances)
Cute guy #1: "Airplanes."
At this point we are interrupted by the bar closing. I'd like to note that this is the first time I've EVER closed down a bar. Regina is such a good influence. The guys disappeared (figures, as they were the only decent ones that whole evening). Afterwards Regina supplied me with what I should have said when they said they flew "stuff": "What, UAV Predators?"
We got back to the hotel after 2 am. I have NO IDEA the last time I was out late. Probably at the opening to Return of the King. Regina later commented, "Taking Megan and her friend to a bar w/ you, is like rubbing guy catnip all over all of us. Truly a bizarre evening--I felt like that girl in the cashew commercial. You know the one who rubs cashews all over herself and is thusly followed around by all men? Exactly."
Saturday day was the conference, nothing in particular to report. That night, though, continued to be fun. We had a conference reception at the National Zoo Amazon exhibit. I discovered that I like Jim Beam (sp?) and Coke quite a lot, though I couldn't finish it. Afterwards several of us from New Mexico decided to walk back to the hotel (about 1.5 miles) rather than take the charter buses. (Note: I was in 3.5 inch heels, Jamie & Bethy they were the red ones I got in Orlando, worn with jeans and a black sweater tank.)
We started walking one direction, and ran into a locked gate. We then tried a second, and also ran into a locked gate. We had a couple male members to our party, so of course we couldn't stop and ask for directions. We did at this point consider climbing the barb-wire topped second locked gate, but eventually decided we hadn't yet exhausted our non-bloodying options.
Third time was the charm. We just walked back the way the buses had come. Again, please remember I'm walking 1.5 miles in 3.5 inch heels. But I walked fast, and everyone with me was in awe. Good times.
Back at the hotel we decide to go out to Madam Organ, a fairly well-known bar in the Adams Morgan neighborhood nearby. It's 3 stories, and pretty funky. By this time something I ate earlier is not agreeing with me, so I'm not having any alcohol at all.
We got there relatively early, I think about 10pm. Again, it's Amy & I, partners in crime. A while later the others show up. Now, a particular New Mexico gentleman in question is quite the metro guy. He's also the type that doesn't ask girls to dance; he starts dancing and has girls falling all over him. I'm on the far side of the dance floor from where he's coming in. He moves toward the dance floor, starts dancing, and is instantly the center of attention (that boy can dance). But then he keeps coming toward me, and tells me I should be dancing.
"Oh, I can't dance at all!"
"It's okay, I'll teach you."
Whereupon he keeps pulling me into the dancing group, and, yelling into my ear, gives me what he considers the basics. We dance for a bit (well, he dances, I do something sort of perhaps related). When I notice him apparently getting distracted, I move back to the fringes of the group, still dancing. I mean, goodness, this guy certainly doesn't want to get stuck with me.