Sunday, October 29, 2006

Michaelangelo Never Had to Do This

I went to stay with my friend Jane in Washington, D.C. because we were going to attend an art opening of her work. We were going to drink champagne and eat really cute food and talk to lovely artist-y people; I really wanted this.

We left an hour before we had to be there because Jane was driving and it's only fifteen minutes away. Well, we spent fifty minutes--yep, that's 50 minutes--looking for a parking spot. We were resigned but not defeated. We knew that we would find one...soon. Actually, we prayed that we would find one...soon. Then we could rush into the building, throwing kisses and laughing with everyone about the PARKING SITUATION, as the gallery manager pressed champagne flutes into our hands.

However, no spot opened up. Hmm. Plan B was for me to drop Jane off and I would park the car. Somewhere. We drove in front of the building and we saw that it was dark. What? Where's the champagne? Where's the food? Where's the lovely artist-y people? Where's the art?

Next week. That's where.

So we drove home. Not really speaking because what is there to say, except, thanks for bringing me here from New York City so we could be driving in circles for an hour. I feel rejuvenated.

Because of an accident, there was a traffic bottleneck on Jane's street; it was bumper to bumper and we were ANOTHER hour just...sitting. Then it began to rain. Yeah. Then it began to thunder. Uh huh. Then there were very bright, sharp bursts of lightening. Alrighty. Then it began to hail. Of course. I was expecting locusts but they apparently were busy somewhere else. Then the winds picked up and later we found out they were almost 50 mph gusts. I mean, where is a cellar when you need one, huh? Great! So this is how the end of the world ends for me. Stuck in a car in a traffic jam. And we were NOT going to be singing and dancing with munchkins at the end of it all. How pedestrian an ending.

Eventually, we began to move -- an inch or two. We were only five houses away from Jane's house, but 40 minutes later, we were there. We had called her husband to let him know of our troubles. He was waiting for us with a large shrimp and pesto pizza, and he had white wine and he looked a bit abashed and said that while it wasn't the gallery, he hoped that it was alright.

So here I was. Wine, food, and talk with lovely people; one of them actually an artist. And she does have art all over her house. It was perfect.