The random thoughts of an architect-turned- lawyer from the deep south living in Washington, DC...

Friday, January 13, 2006

Rise and Shine

I just won the award for worst hungover wake-up experience ever.

Best Friend arrived in DC yesterday for a teachers conference. After an evening of mucho alcohol consumption, I crashed at her hotel on Capitol Hill. Luckily, her teacher-roomie was not arriving until today. Not so luckily, by "today" she meant early this morning.

BFF had to head downstairs for a presentation at 8:30 and I fully intended to sleep in. Not long after she left, I was awakened by a door slam. Thinking she had just forgotten something, I headed back to slumber land. Door slam was followed by a lot of rummaging and zipping/unzipping and rolly bags and just plain noise. Since BFF and I go back to the 5th grade, we can talk to each other fairly casually. Eyes still closed, nestled under the covers, I ask "dude, could you be any louder?" The response of "oh, I'm sorry, I just have to get ready for my presentation" came from someone who was not, in fact, BFF. I open my eyes to little lady teacher-roomie whose bed I am sleeping in. I apologize profusely and explain who I am and such. She politely tells me to go ahead and continue sleeping. She promises not to be "chatty."

The problem with attempting to sleep at this point is the noise that teacher-roomie is emitting. On the other hand, there is a problem with getting up at this point too. Aside from the splitting headache, I am not actually, um, dressed. BFF had an extra pair of pants for me to sleep in but no top. While some people may think that sleeping unclothed in a hotel room with a stranger is normal, I am not one of those people. Although this is an acceptable level of "modesty" in front of BFF, it is not in front of teacher-roomie from Connecticut. I figure she will just get situated and head downstairs for whatever they have today. So, I wait. And I wait. At least things are quiet by now. I crack one eye and peak through that little slit to see her playing with a glue stick and construction paper. When she said 'get ready for my presentation' she really meant it. Realizing that I cannot do this all day, I go ahead and face the music. I quickly get out of bed, grab my smoky clothing from last night and make a b-line for the bathroom.

I guess teacher-roomie thought this meant her promise not to be chatty was no longer in effect, because she just hit the ground running. With every word, my head throbbed. She is talking about the television in the bathroom and when and if such a thing would ever be necessary. "Must be those hoity-toity Washington people who just cannot go five minutes without knowing what is going on in the world. Unless, of course they take a long time in the bathroom. You know, when I was younger, my father used to take 45 minutes in the bathroom. I would tell you we didn't know what he was doing in there, but when the door opened, the smell that came out..."

At this point, I look out of the window to see how far the drop is because when I jump in two seconds, I want to make sure I die. I am standing there with a throbbing headache wearing clothing from last evening that smells worse than the smoking rooms at the Atlanta airport and I am about to have to Metro home, plus this strange woman has just seen me almost naked and now she wants to tell me about her father's bowel movements. I am just not okay with any of this.