Recommendations, expectations, and reality

So if you’ve talked to me at all during the last few weeks, you’ll know that I am a collector of recommendations on anything. Food, books, places to see, things to do, ect. So in an attempt to shift gears, I started to make use of these and start to find some of my own.

Recommendation #1: Ben’s Chili Bowl

Since starting my job, my boss has been telling me Ben’s Chili Bowl is a Washington, D.C., must see. So Friday night, friends and I decided that there wasn’t a better time than the present to start making use of these recommendations. So well past our regular dinner time, we set out for a new part of town to find our dinner, but ended up with dinner and a movie.

So we get off at the U Street metro stop. Everything normal so far. But on our walk to Ben’s, we’re pretty certain we saw what was about to be a drug deal that was quickly stopped by the cops on the street. (Don’t worry Mom!)

But quickly we arrived to Ben’s, which was jam-packed with chili-craving people. And while we had stood out with our preppy clothes on the street, we better fit in with the average customer on the inside.

And so, did Ben’s live up to expectations? Yes. Not only were the cholesterol-exploding french fries and chili dogs filling, but I appreciated the excuse to expand my expeditions in the city, a key goal of mine for the semester.

So after we had done all the damage we could to our mountain of chili fries and our stomachs were full near to the point of pain, we headed back to the metro – now it’s movie time.

What makes this incident particularly funny is the conversation that took place only moments before life interjected itself into our lives. Jackie and I had started in on what was, by now, a reoccurring topic: that we love the city and can see ourselves living here in the near future. So as we’re discussing all the things we love about the city as we rode down the metro escalator, we see what turned out to be a police officer doing what he could to try and get a man to stand up. Seems only slightly odd, and that was all it was, until we got off the escalator and were in full view of the man sitting down. “POLICE BRUTALITY! CALL ANOTHER POLICE OFFICER! I JUST WANT TO BE VISIBLE.”

I think the final line is what strikes me the most. There are people living on the streets all over the greater-Washington area, and you especially see them at night when they’ve found a place to spend the night. I’ve been affirmed all my life. My mother is always supporting me; my brothers are always there to have a conversation with, even if it takes a bit of prodding J; I’ve done well in school and it’s been met with recognition. This does not even count the affirmation I get that when I say hello to someone, they respond. In sum, I cannot even imagine the personal affronts he and others living on the street experience every day.

Recommendation #2: Georgetown

To finish off Friday night, a group of us decided to go to the much-anticipated Georgetown. And because none of us had ever been, we relied on the recommendation of a random guy on the street for our choice of bar for the night. And the place itself was everything you’d expect from a bar in Georgetown – classy and expensive. We had a great time, but I hardly think it will be on our list for the future.

Recommendations #3, 4, 5: H Street Festival, Co Co. Sala, and Opera in the Outfield

So I’m realizing that this entry is getting a bit long, so for your sake and my sanity tomorrow morning, I’m going to throw rush through the last three, even though they deserve a much better attention.

H Street. This ended up as a fail, but ironically had looked to be the most exciting thing of the weekend on paper. The Weekender touted that the festival would be filled with cultural experiences, great food and drink, good music, the usual onslaught of activities used to entice the sight-seer that both wants to experience the world, but in a managed, comfortable way.

To preface our experience, many of us had gotten 5-6 hours of sleep the night before, spent three hours standing in Regan National Airport, and hadn’t had lunch until about 1:30 or 2 p.m. To make matters worse, we hadn’t had caffeinated coffee until 3, and we couldn’t find a metro stop that was within 14 blocks of the festival. Good lead in, right?

So after our tired bodies finally reached our goal, the most effort we could muster was to walk the length of the festival, not stopping at any of the exhibits for more than a minute or two.

Co Co Sala. Sunday morning I had what was easily my most adventurous and tasty meal here: chocolate smores French toast, bananas drizzled in cinnamony caramel, white chocolate raspberry dessert, and two fantastic morning cocktails.

Opera in the Outfield. While we were a bit reserved initally about this outing and thought that, instead, H Street would be fantastic, this was the perfect outing. We had a bit of culture in seeing a live opera performed. And it was on the big screen at the Nats Stadium, which gave it a more relaxing, take-it-as-you-want-it atmosphere. The weather was perfect. And it was free.