Jester and I enjoyed a long weekend in our nation's capital last weekend. I hadn't been to DC since I was four, when I lobbied for extended recess and less restrictive access to pornography in Houston-area preschools. This time around, however, the trip would not end with bitter defeat. It was, instead, a story of a man and his wife, bringing tacit, nondescript change to Washington by walking to tourist attractions, frequenting museums, and drinking nectar from the supple teat of Lady Justice. Aptly named DC strippers aside, we set out on our journey as undereducated Midwesterners, knowing very little about DC, other than the fact that "District of Columbia" is English for "San Diego" and that DC was designed by George Washington crony Pierre L'Enfant as a bastion of various esoteric Freemason and potentially Satanic symbols. Needless to say, we were scared of "the big city," smooth-talking politicians, and getting shot in the face by one of Washington's many insane and presumably armed homeless persons. Over the next four days, our fears were allayed and our naïveté raped and murdered, not necessarily in that order. We returned to the Midwest (or, in local DC jargon, "the flyover states") as hardened conquistadors.
Because of the length of each day's activities, I will be breaking up the recap into daily recaps. I chose the name "Washington Fat Cats" because the pictures associated with this trip indicated to me that I need to lose a few pounds before attempting to put on Navy whites in a few weeks.