check_other (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} check_other) wrote,@ 2005-12-09 02:38:00 |
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Pizza pick-ups: All great ideas are found by accident....
We walked down Columbia Road from 16th St. Passing the dimly lit hole in the wall of the Mambo Room, quiet apartment buildings with neatly manicured lawns, and store fronts baring the names Ritmo Latino, The Mexican bakery, and MixTec. The locals are still shopping at Safeway, the homeless are dispersing, though some people still stand around chatting in Spanish- it hasn’t started getting too cold at night yet. We get the occasional check-out, "eh, mamasita!!" and pretend to ignore it.
We hit the corner of 18th and Columbia, with it’s brightly lit McDonald’s acting as a light-house beacon for the main strip in Adam’s Morgan. We encounter a familiar breed of people, so different from the one we just left. The loud, well-dressed, preppy young professionals crowd waits at the corner to cross the street.
We notice their dress, their tones, their style. We pick a chic bar and chat and people watch. No one checking us out over here. We will never be those women in the slinky tops that are hit on left and right in this town. We wouldn’t want to be. We buy our own drinks. But the attention would be nice, I suppose.
And since one can’t leave Adam’s after having a drink without a giant slice of pizza we make a pit stop at the Pizza Boli’s as we make our way back. We pack it in a box to go and my friend carries it out the door, back toward the lighthouse before we'll push off shore to go home… but lo! What’s this? All the sudden the men are talking to us, following us, with their eyes if not their feet. Some are talking to us and as we approach we hear their calls: “Lookin’ good… Can I get a piece of that?”
They were talking about the pizza of course. So now we know the real secret- and we’re letting it out: If you ever want to pick up guys in Adam’s Morgan, just carry around pizza box (pizza not required within) and it doesn’t matter where you’ve come from ‘cause you’ll be the hottest chica on the strip!
We walked down Columbia Road from 16th St. Passing the dimly lit hole in the wall of the Mambo Room, quiet apartment buildings with neatly manicured lawns, and store fronts baring the names Ritmo Latino, The Mexican bakery, and MixTec. The locals are still shopping at Safeway, the homeless are dispersing, though some people still stand around chatting in Spanish- it hasn’t started getting too cold at night yet. We get the occasional check-out, "eh, mamasita!!" and pretend to ignore it.
We hit the corner of 18th and Columbia, with it’s brightly lit McDonald’s acting as a light-house beacon for the main strip in Adam’s Morgan. We encounter a familiar breed of people, so different from the one we just left. The loud, well-dressed, preppy young professionals crowd waits at the corner to cross the street.
We notice their dress, their tones, their style. We pick a chic bar and chat and people watch. No one checking us out over here. We will never be those women in the slinky tops that are hit on left and right in this town. We wouldn’t want to be. We buy our own drinks. But the attention would be nice, I suppose.
And since one can’t leave Adam’s after having a drink without a giant slice of pizza we make a pit stop at the Pizza Boli’s as we make our way back. We pack it in a box to go and my friend carries it out the door, back toward the lighthouse before we'll push off shore to go home… but lo! What’s this? All the sudden the men are talking to us, following us, with their eyes if not their feet. Some are talking to us and as we approach we hear their calls: “Lookin’ good… Can I get a piece of that?”
They were talking about the pizza of course. So now we know the real secret- and we’re letting it out: If you ever want to pick up guys in Adam’s Morgan, just carry around pizza box (pizza not required within) and it doesn’t matter where you’ve come from ‘cause you’ll be the hottest chica on the strip!
