Without computer still, slapping my arms like junkie style… But I have other means of writing still. DC is on its best behaviour with me, friends who are all so open and giving, even an air mild as can be, carrying a mist to keep me awake after an all day mix up of a flight since our pilot was not aloud to land in DC and was given orders to circle back through the turbulence to Charlotte. I don’t fly much and someone just keen enough would be able to see the little gremlin in my eyes and my wings disconnect.
We have a rooftop view of the city with pizza and IPAs to go ’round. Chinatown has vastly changed into a flashy spot with all kindsa bustle around its Verizon sports center. Friday night outside the theater is the much loved ruckous of old DC, another section of town transformed not without its rowdiness shedded, slid under a red carpet.
In contrast to Houston, here we have a people crowded in and hurrying along and of greater variety as if New York or another city has begun creeping down for a takeover. This is not your father’s DC from the eighties.