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Commentary: On Politeness

(Posted by: Rachael)

Whew. I’ve been a blog slacker lately. Honestly, I wondered if I would have enough to write about – enough that’s actually interesting to readers? One of my good friends is starting a blog through which she’ll write about the Cosby show as she watches every episode in order. Now THAT is an interesting blog. Do people really care enough about what we’re up to in D.C. to read this thing every time we nosh at a happy hour (besides you, mom)?

I decided putting in occasional, observation-type entries might liven things up a bit. So here goes: a word on la politesse of D.C. Before we moved here, I wasn’t quite sure what standards of manners to expect. Would we encounter perpetually pompous political types who were too busy to hold open a door for us? Harried metro riders all too willing to forcefully bump their way past us in attempt to catch a train?

In a word (ok, two): Not really. I’ve been pleasantly surprised by how nice people are here, from the Capitol Hill staffers to the cashier at the grocery store next to our apartment. They do hold doors. They don’t mow you down on the metro. When I’m getting on the train, men stand back and let me board first. A fellow commuter apologized not once, but twice, to me yesterday after he accidentally bumped me with his briefcase on a crowded train. We had a good conversation with a bagger at Harris Teeter about being D.C. newbies.

In fact, I’d venture to say people are, generally,  more friendly toward strangers here than in Indiana. But why? Is it because customer service is more valued in a touristy town? Because people are used to sharing their space in a busier place? Or, going a bit deeper, is it because D.C. has more people with higher education, and higher education might just mean better manners/people skills?

Post your thoughts, brethren.

(Posted by: Rachael)

Few things make me happier than a happy hour, especially since we have to pay both our D.C. rent and our Indianapolis mortgage during the month of August (OY!). So when a long-lost high school pal asked the husband and me to join him at James Hoban’s Irish Bar in Dupont Circle for a little 5 p.m. fun, we gladly obliged.

(A brief aside: Before we moved to D.C., a chap Josh worked with, who lived here a few decades ago, advised us to “avoid that Dupont Circle area.” And Josh’s own dad swore that “no one lives in ‘Worshington’ without carrying a gun.” I’d like to report that both of these sage pieces of advice are completely untrue. While anywhere, rural or urban, requires one to refrain from being a safety-eschewing idiot, we’re not aimlessly wandering the streets of Anacostia with signs that say “rob us!” on our backs, and Dupont Circle is one of the most fun, happening places in the city. Just ’cause we ain’t in Kansas, er, Indiana, anymore doesn’t mean we’ve joined the Crips. Or the Bloods, for that matter [and I'm from bucolic Boone County, Indiana - I obviously know I'm talking about when it comes to gangs]. The D.C. we’ve experienced so far is clean and safe. And let’s be honest: Indianapolis occasionally veers just slightly off-kilter from Pleasantville.)

Hoban’s has some decent specials: $4 rail drinks and glasses of wine, cheap beers, and two-for-one appetizers. Our waiter originally told us only beer and wine were on special during happy hour, until our Encyclopedia Brown-style detective skills spotted “RAIL DRINKS $4″  on the sign sitting right outside the front door. Ah, FBI, here we come.

The food was good; we split sweet potato fries, spinach and artichoke dip, wings and chicken tenders. Well, the boys had the poultry items - I’m guessing they were good, because they disappeared rather quickly. The spinach and artichoke dip was ah-maze-ing. The service was “meh,” but a slighty daft server equated to a bill that discluded one of our appetizer combos. Was it intentional, since he charged Josh extra for his first drink, on account of that no-liquor-specials snafu? Not sure. Does it make me dishonest that I didn’t ask him about the left-offs on the bill? Also not sure. Oh, the deep moral dilemmas we encounter during the road of life.

Happy hour at Hoban’s takes place from 4 to 7 p.m. daily. Plenty of outdoor seating for warm days.

(Posted by: Rachael)

…away from where we used to live. Five hundred and ninety-six miles, to be exact. Welcome to our Web log – that’s what the kids are calling it these days, right? We’re blogger virgins, so be gentle with us. It might hurt our first time.

The gist of our lives right now: I have a job, the husband has yet to start his. Our two dogs are Greta and Perry, and they rock the house. We’re driving back and forth to our former homeland this summer so I can finish up some commitments with this.

But enough about us – you probably didn’t come hear to read that today I’m eating Progresso low-sodium soup for lunch, did you?

D.C. Discovery: Doggie Happy Hour at Jackson20
Go to Doggie Happy Hour at Jackson20 tavern in Old Town Alexandria only if you can stand the heat. No, they’re not whipping up blazin’ hot wings for your enjoyment - it’s just 92 degrees outside and I sweated my nonexistent balls off in Jackson20′s outdoor courtyard. But I inappropriately digress. Jackson20 (in the 400 block of King Street, at Hotel Monaco) and it’s Doggie Happy Hour were utterly enjoyable. Their lovely, large brick courtyard was the perfect gathering ground for people and their pets; we took our puggle, Perry, and he was on high alert the entire time, uselessly (but happily) whimpering at the other dogs from his post at our table. If the $5 appetizers and $2 beer don’t float your boat (admission: we hate beer and I had a glass of wine instead, also at a cheaper happy-hour price), the parade of pooches will. The entertainment of two pugs who showed up – fat as hogs ready for the butcher and snorting just as loudly - was an especially good complement to our fried green tomatoes and tater tots. (I know, tater tots. But they were like GOURMET tots. Seriously awesome.)

Jackson20′s Doggie Happy Hour is every Tuesday (and perhaps Thursday?) from 5 to 8 p.m.


A fat pug we witnessed at Jackson20′s Doggie Happy Hour

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