SALMON ALFRESCO
The female member of a newlywed Arlington couple decided to step up dinner with a new recipe: blackened salmon.
But they had to evacuate the apartment when the smoke-filled kitchen, air thick with spice, made it difficult for her otherwise appreciative husband to breathe.
The newlyweds decided to enjoy the cool June evening on the sidewalk in front of their apartment, where they sipped white wine and ate the salvaged salmon.
“We pay $1,600 a month for an apartment that doesn’t ventilate itself,” the husband remarked.
“Such is life in this area,” the wife replied.
“Well, at least the salmon is good.”
PARKING CIRCUS
Finding on-street parking after dark in Dupont Circle is a feat one attempts only to impress the Olympic judges.
But a woman coming home from a long day of work tried just that. Forty-five minutes of circling ensued.
She drove down side streets she had never heard of before and repeatedly backed her midsized sedan into too-small spaces while impatient drivers honked and onlookers told her not to bother.
Two D.C. police officers watched, and laughed.
Finally, the weary driver found a space of questionable legality, then lugged her backpack, gym bag and 200 pages of court documents for the eight blocks to her apartment.
Upon arriving home, she was greeted by two lavishly large parking spaces that had opened up directly in front of her stairs.
HOLDING UP THE LINE
Going though security at Washington Dulles International Airport always has moments of frustration and amusement, and a Kalorama man found both as he made an early July 4 getaway.
A passenger ahead of him in line found that his 16-ounce plastic bottle was half full as he approached the body scanner. He tipped his head back and chugged the contents, prompting a woman to ask, “Was that gin or water?”
The hard-drinker then staggered as if tipsy and declared: “I don’t care how long the line is.”
The Kalorama man didn’t, either, until the passenger in front of him was held up for a long security check. It turned out he had a rock and a walnut in his pants pocket. “Geez,” said the exasperated security guard.
FANNY PACKS ARE NOT IN
A woman from Augusta, Ga., stepped off a Blue Line train and onto the McPherson Square Metro platform, where she made a declaration: “Fanny packs and visors are so in.”
She was followed off the train by a gaggle of senior citizens donning the “fashionable” garb. They nodded in agreement.
“I thought we were going to look like country bumpkins,” said the woman, whose group was set to tour the monuments and Capitol after stopping by the White House. “But we fit right in. It’s everyone else who looks out of place.”
At that point, however, a man typing on his BlackBerry and wearing a black, pin-striped suit, cut in as he crossed their path: “This isn’t Disney World. Think again, ma’am.”
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