RANDOM OBSERVATIONS

[Guest Kotzenjunge]

Ha, fooled all of you(who are still awake). This is just a placeholder thread, because once I make a real thread, I have actual incentive to write the damn thing. So, in the spirit of placeholder pages/sites/threads...

 

The Rock is the most electrifying man in sports-entertainment today...

 

Ah fuck it.

 

This will be posted before I go to sleep, trust me.

 

Fo sheez,

Kotzenjunge

[Guest Kotzenjunge]

Now for the greatly anticipated (by at least one or two of you) Random Observations: Washington D.C. Edition column. It’s coming in parts, this part being the conception of the trip, as well as the trip there itself until I reach my room, and then each part being about each day thereafter. I realized while typing this that if I remember as much about the whole thing as I have so far about the trip itself, it will be VERY long and I won’t be able to go to sleep. So anyways, here’s Part One.

 

This trip was to be my very late Graduation present. I love the city of Washington, and would gladly put it up against the greatest cities of Europe for sheer beauty. I’d been there five times before this trip, but the last time I was there for actual touristy purposes was in 1998 for the Fourth of July. Despite my many visits, there were still things I had yet to see or see as much as I wanted to. The National Gallery I never got to see enough of, as the last time I was there was in sixth grade when none of the philistines in my group wanted to see it or the Natural History museum. Everyone was too busy creaming themselves over the Air and Space Museum to really care about stuff before 1900 or so. I lobbied to see the Gallery though, but we spent all of thirty minutes there, as no one cared about art except me. I never got the see the National Archives. One of what I consider the most important places, and I had NEVER seen it in THREE visits!! The Library of Congress also intrigued me, as I’d yet to see that either. Another large reason behind all of this was that I’d always had a group or my mother hampering me or something. I always had to see what someone else wanted to see, or slow down so others could keep up, or whatnot. This was a chance to see everything I wanted at my own damn pace. The mere idea of going somewhere very far away by myself was a great concept anyway. I really needed to get away from here, even if for a little while. In short: Place rules, I had a reason to go there and not have to pay for it, period.

 

The other reason for going to Washington was the First Lady of the State of America. Quite convenient that she lived near my favorite place on the planet, despite her always expressing detest for the place for some unexplained reason. She actually lived a ways out of the city, out by Dulles International, which for those who are unfamiliar with the DC area, is a long-ass way out of the city. Anyways, this was an opportunity to see her without being handicapped by being in town for Nationals and not being able to actually sit down and talk or whatever. I worked hard to promote my visit when I spoke to her, to the point where I think she may have been looking forward to it as much as I. I wouldn’t see her until the third day I was there though, as she’s still in her Senior year of High School. Anyone who was here around the time of the State knows she’s a fox, and if anyone wants pictures, hit me up on AIM(screen name: Kotzenjunge) and I’ll hook you up. I’m really mad I lost the nude pictures when the computer died. Er, anyway.

 

I almost went to New York instead of Washington for two reasons: I’d wanted to go there since I was four and Erica got herself a boyfriend. When she broke up with said boyfriend, it turned into a Washington/New York trip. Dames was very pleased about this, as apparently I’ve got some kind of mythic reputation as the MAN, and he looked forward to showing me around the city, as well as the nightlife. New York turned out to be too expensive, so I axed that part and went with Washington alone. In short, I ended up where I began. Expedia.com hooked me up with a sweet deal that gave me a hotel for four nights within sight of the city on the Virginia side as well as a flight on a reputable airline(Delta, not Cletus’s Aeroplanes or something) for about $500. Father hooked me up with $275 in spending money, which is weird, because he always says he never has any money. He had a bet going with my grandfather that I wouldn’t spend all of it, when grandfather pretty much asserted that I’d go nuts with it and spend it all.

 

I got all of two and a half hours of rest on the night of the 10th, because I had to get up at 7 on the 11th(ha, 7-Eleven) to get supplies for my trip. See, I had gone the night previous, but for some reason my mother’s checks weren’t accepted. I really wonder where her money goes, especially now that she lives with us and has for a long enough period to have received another paycheck. At any rate, off to Wal Mart. I needed cameras, a new CD booklet, underwear(in case I felt a want to wear it), undershirts(the current bunch was getting a tad worn), and socks(I never wore matching socks, I could never find any). Black nail polish was nowhere to be found. I’m really starting to wonder where females get it from. Lack of polish forced me to bring the trusty Sharpie marker. I got new shoes earlier in the day, because I knew my now-decaying Vans wouldn’t be able to handle all that walking. Thank goodness I got new shoes.

 

I ended up giving Erica Louie DeVito’s Dance Factory, even though I really didn’t want to. It’s just THAT DAMN GOOD. I also put the MST3K Pumaman episode onto a CD for her. Other than that, meiner Schultasche contained my CD booklet(with several discs just kinda sitting in there, probably scratching each other to hell), a copy of Grenville’s A History of the World in the Twentieth Century that I didn’t return to the school because I can appreciate it MUCH more than any jabroni teacher at that school could, and the aforementioned cameras, as well as batteries. I packed my WWF replica title belt, as it has been customary for it to accompany me on flying trips since I got it. Don’t ask why, I don’t know myself. I packed my SWANK~! new boxers and socks too, which I only note because of the extreme pride I now have in them. I went light on the super spiffy clothes since I knew I’d be walking a lot in warm weather and I didn’t want to mess anything up, so only spiffy clothes for when I’d see Erica, which is really the only time it would count.

 

The airport was surprisingly normal. I noticed they finally installed new equipment at the Charleston airport since I’d been there in June. My belt buckle went off in the metal detector. I went off at every single metal detector I passed through over the whole trip. I’m a consistent security threat at least. I sat and waited to board while reading the history book and listening to Mixaroonie VI, which is the best I’ve ever made in my opinion. The flight from Charleston to Atlanta was on a small jet, and I really had to fight the impulse to go “WHOOOOO!” when I boarded it. WINDOW SEAT, BAYBEE~! The sole flight attendant ruled. He was Italian or Greek or something, some kind of Southern European, and spoke VERY quickly. I think his name was George. He, like myself, appreciated the view out of windows during takeoff and landing, so he had everyone open their window blinds when we took off and landed. He was even nice enough to tell us individually where our next gate was.

 

Upon arrival at Hartsfield in Atlanta, I told the dude he rocked, and didn’t leave the stairwell on the plane until I gave the Nixon V for victory sign. Really pissed off the people behind me for some reason. Must’ve voted for McGovern. I had time to kill and my concourse was the next one over, so I decided to screw with some people. I used the subway system at the airport to go in circles, thereby seeing the same people as much as four times. Don’t ask me how it all worked, I owe it to luck myself. I ate lunch at the Chinese place in the Food Court and got more stares for my clothing. It should be noted that I was wearing my FBI cap and shirt that I got in Washington when the Academic Team was there for Nationals. The flight to Baltimore-Washington was unspectacular mostly because I slept through most of it. There was one little thing though: When we got within 30 minutes of the city, no one was allowed to move. Not that we were having turbulence or anything, no one was allowed to get up for any reason whatsoever. This was sort of reassuring, and I hoped that my stomach wouldn’t decide it didn’t like the Chinese or something and make me need to get up.

 

BWI rules. Not that there’s anything that great about it, but the building is all black. It looks insanely cool. The inside is just various shiny surfaces and stuff, normal airport fare, but when put together with the black motif, it looked very very spiffy. I should also note that I have yet to encounter a rude or mean person yet at this point. I asked an incredibly nice woman at the BWI information desk where the bus to the nearest Metro station was, and she even gave me a red, white, and blue ribbon. I put it on my hat, on the side opposite of the already present flag lapel pin. The bus driver was the first remotely unfriendly person I ran into. I asked him if this was the bus, just to make sure, and he just kinda grunted while nodding. Ooookaaaaaaaay... so how much is it? A grunt with two fingers held up. I gave him my money and went to sit in the back. Some dude started eyeing me as I put my suitcase on the luggage rack. His amorous look turned to hope as he asked me for change for a ten. I didn’t have it, but speaking with him allowed me to notice the couple sitting behind him who couldn’t keep their hands off each other. They were feeling each other up and all sorts of tongue action was going on as I took my seat and tried to keep from saying something. Upon arrival at the Metro station, the same guy as before now asked me if I had change for a five. He explained he owed money to his friend, who was some dude in a cowboy hat. The little farecard machines were absolutely baffling to me at first, mostly because I didn’t know when peak hours were and when they weren’t. I managed to get a card and went to wait for the train. So far, everything had been perfectly timed, with me having to wait hardly at all for anything. This was no exception. The train pulled up as I got to the platform. I listened to YATTA~! as I waited for the train to take off. The ride was fine... until we got to the first station where people could transfer from another line. The train flooded with people, and I was effectively taking up two seats since I was sitting on the aisle and my suitcase was in the aisle next to me, preventing anyone from sitting in the window seat. Some woman angrily asked me if I was getting off any time soon. Fortunately, I was. I feel that was probably the only moment where I looked like a true tourist, mostly because I was petrified of this angry black woman. My answer of stuttering out “I get off at the next station” had me go from 18 to 5 in voice depth. It haunts me still. Also important to note that this was the only time I actually felt vulnerable this whole trip. The hell ended at the next station, as I managed to plow my way off of the train with my suitcase and into the sea of people at the Metro Center station.

 

These stations look awesome. They’d make great rave halls. Tremendous acoustics, plenty of room, at least two levels in each one... man. I’m drooling thinking of the possibilities. You can check them out atthis page. They all look pretty much the same based on whether they’re underground or not, but they’re still neat.

 

I got onto the Orange line, or so I thought. I had managed to get onto the Blue line(the Blue and Orange are the same line up until a certain station) and found myself at Arlington Cemetery. This was fixed by me going back and getting back on the Orange line, but it was still embarrassing. I got off finally at the Court House station, and my hotel was a mere 1500 feet or so away. I didn’t want to walk down the street with my suitcase though, not to mention not knowing where my hotel was in relation to the hotel itself, so off to find a phone for a taxi I went. The Washington DC area does not believe in phone books with their pay phones. Why they don’t do what we do here and bolt the books to the booths escapes me. I looked everywhere for a store that had a phone and phone book I could use. A helpful Arlington police officer directed me to a store that had a pay phone, but the woman inside ignored my attempts to get her attention for a phone book. I stood in front of the register to the store with a dollar bill in my hand and I became the world to her though. No phone book. Suuuuuure. You’re just mad I’m not buying anything, because I know very well they don’t sell paperbacks like that one near that chair over there. Whatever. I went into a dry cleaner, where the possible funniest moment of the trip went down. I asked the woman in the back if she had a phone and phone book I could use. She couldn’t hear me over the washing machines at first, so she came closer to where I was standing, and asked me to repeat myself. I asked again, and she immediately looked really pissed and told me:

 

“NO POBO!!!!!!!”

 

I’m not Chinese(well, 1/8) nor do I claim to know the language, so I have to assume that Pobo(pronounced Po-Bow, as in an archery bow) meant phone book. Either that or she was cursing at me. Anyone able to tell me what Pobo means? This also still troubles me, but has become a running gag with myself. I think I’ll suggest Dames, DrTom, JHawk, Flyboy, Bob, MrRant, RetroRob, hell, anyone who does reviews of any kind to incorporate “NO POBO!!!” into their reviews, perhaps when someone no-sells or kicks out. For instance: “Jericho gets the Lionsault on HHH, but HHH says ‘NO POBO!!!’ and Jericho only gets two, thereby killing his finisher.” I foresee “NO POBO!!!” becoming the new INTENSE~!. Er, back to my column.

 

Finally a really nice dude at a Kinko’s hooked me up with a phone and a Pobo. I kept messing up the number and people kept trying to call Kinko’s, so I think I ended up hanging up or disconnecting ten people. Fuck ‘em, I needed to get to my hotel!! I got a very untalkative Chinese dude as my driver. He seemed peeved that I didn’t have very far to go, as he said in something I have yet to figure out as a humorous or angry tone, “the meter isn’t even moving!” I gave him a couple of extra dollars for making such a piddling trip. He said “NO POBO!!!” to my Have a Nice Day, which I say to everyone.

 

The hotel amazed me with how nice it was. Reflective golden surfaces everywhere = SWANK~! The dude at the front desk was the MAN. He called me Mr. Spoon for the whole time I was there, and we even spoke for a period about how nice the area was and how much we both loved the city. He said I didn’t look 18. I blame the Lincoln beard. My room was a loooooong way from the front desk, in a totally different(but no less nice) building. My room was next to the vending machines and ice machine! Sweet! Maybe I wouldn’t have to get dressed to leave the room after all, as long as I was fast about it. Room 3316 I was, because Stone Cold said so with a stutter. Single queen size bed, I was set. After arriving at the Charleston airport at 10:45 that morning, I was now in my room at 7 PM.

 

That ends Part One. Look out for Part Two sometime in the next few days. It will be posted in this thread.

 

This Part’s Musical Gem: Live at Dominoes by The Avalanches. Try to not move to the beat by the two minute mark, I doubt you can do it.

 

Seeyas in a day or two.

 

Fo sheez,

Kotzenjunge

(Patrick Spoon)

[Guest kane3212321]

Sheesh, that's a detailed report. Washington sounds like a great place. Good to hear ya had a good holiday (so far).

[Guest Leena]

That was interesting, I wonder what happened with you and Erica.

 

Did you write down every single thing that happened on this trip?

[Guest Incandenza]

I remember being in awe of D.C's metro system. When I was last there, I was coming off a three day stay in NYC, where I had both a good time and a cold. During the numerous occasions I found myself waiting for the sub in New York, I had no qualms about hocking phlegm on the floor, but dared no such thing in Washington. Everything was so relatively nice.

[Guest Tyler McClelland]

That, and the Subway cops will impale you.

 

 

<---- DC Resident (well, NoVa)

[Guest Incandenza]

Arrest me? I saw no signs forbidding spitting.

 

Eh, no matter. The D.C. metro system is far too good for my bodily fluids.

[Guest kingkamala]

I love D.C too, beautiful city the only problem is every fast food resteraunt in town closes after 7:00 P.M. ehhh no city is perfect.

[Guest Kotzenjunge]

Har har. No I didn't write everything down, I just have a good memory. I almost wrote down little sentences to help me remember things that would be interesting later(like the cool flight attendant) but found I could remember everything fine. I didn't see a single one of these subway officers you speak of.

 

Fo sheez,

Kotzenjunge

[The Dames 0]

Your trip sucked cuz you didn't hang out with Dames.

[Guest Kinetic]

D.C. consists of certain nice parts--all of the monuments, the mall, etc.--but anywhere beyond that and you're in the ghetto. I used to frequent the 9:30 Club when I lived in Manassas, and that could be pretty terrifying. If the parking lot filled up, you had to park in front of people's dingy little shacks. They'd stare at you, too.

 

Scary.

[Guest Incandenza]

I saw nothing but the nice parts of D.C., though I'm sure I could handle myself were I confronted by a gang of toughs.

[Guest Kotzenjunge]

I've seen the ghetto and the nice, and I still love the place. Is there something wrong with me?

 

If ever confronted by a gang of toughs, I could beatbox my way out of it.

 

Fo sheez,

Kotzenjunge

[Guest TheZsaszHorsemen]

Kotz... I went to D.C not too long ago.

 

 

Did you notice that EVERYONE is jogging?

[Guest Kotzenjunge]

I'm not answering anything that won't be covered in a future installment. Believe me, I address the joggers.

 

Fo sheez,

Kotzenjunge

[The Dames 0]

SPOON!!!! I finally realized who you remind me of! The Blue Meanie, the thin one!

 

Dames

[Guest Kotzenjunge]

Hmm, now that I think of it, you're right. Do I get Jasmin St. Clair too?

 

Fo sheez,

Kotzenjunge

[The Dames 0]

Would you really want her?

[Guest Kotzenjunge]

Hey, would you kick her out of bed?

 

Fo sheez,

Kotzenjunge

[The Dames 0]

She's been with more guys than I've ever met in my life. I don't know where dat girls been!

 

Dames

[Guest Tyler McClelland]

The subway cops sit in those little booths when you walk in... and they have security cameras all over the place.

 

Trust me, just because you can't see them doesn't mean they're not there

[Guest Kotzenjunge]

I noticed the cameras, I figured the people in the booths were just there for information and stuff.

 

Fo sheez,

Kotzenjunge

[Guest Tyler McClelland]

There actually was a case last year when a guy hopped the gate and a subway cop took off from inside that booth... the dude shot him and killed the cop. Random story, but that's how I know there's cops in there