My Secret Mission in DC Came to a Close

The rest of my days in DC ended with checking out a few more bars and double checking the White House…several times. Although I was unable to complete my mission, I am satisfied with seeing only Sasha and am comfortable with knowing that I double checked quite a few likely Obama-hideouts.

On my last night in DC I went to a bar with several other secret agents. I only spent a total of $1 for three whiskey drinks, which I am quite proud of (it pays to be a woman). After realizing that the three other secret agents had all broken off to engage in their own shenanigans with strangers at the bar (which was appropriately named “Shenanigans”), a stranger asked me to dance.

Why yes I would like to dance with you while I’m slightly tipsy to all this ’90’s music. I only hope you can keep up, good sir. You don’t know what you’re getting into…when I’m not adventuring around DC as a Secret Agent, I’m dancing around my house in my underwear.

The next few hours entailed being twirled around the dance floor, swing-dancing with the best dance partner I have had in recent memory. We danced to ABBA, N*SYNC, the Backstreet Boys, and every other popular music group from my childhood. We didn’t exactly fit in with all of the couples grinding on eachother and all but having sex on the dance floor, but I know we enjoyed ourselves far more.

After bidding adieu to our new friends, my fellow secret agents and I went back to our hostel. I somehow woke up earlier than I needed to the next morning, and without removing my makeup or taking a shower I booked it to the White House for one last check.

I think the White House might be my favorite place in the world. I am greatly moved every time I see it and it is nigh impossible to peel myself away. Sitting in front of it, latte in hand, completely smelly from a night of shenangians…I couldn’t think of a better way to spend my last hour in DC.

Au revoir, District of Columbia.

My mom, at the age of 21, in front of the Lincoln Memorial, the week before the 2nd Reagan inauguration

Me, at the age of 21, in front of the Lincoln Memorial, the week before the 2nd Obama inauguration