Welcome Peachy, we like your face.

In a bid to keep me socially engaged, my fuzzy little man peach took me to DC Saturday night to eat falafel with a friend of his. Unfortunately, falafel is in Adams Morgan,* quite the walk from the Metro, and what with it being both horribly hot and humid out, by the time we arrived I was ready kill someone. Mostly The Pit, who insisted on keeping up a conversation as we walked, instead of letting me suffer in silence.

However, falafel was quite revitalizing, and afterward we decided to retire to the bar next door and wait for the humidity to die down to a more tolerable level. Thus I ended up at The Black Squirrel, a bar that I will remember fondly, as it was both air-conditioned and relatively quiet when we came in.

So there I was, drinking my cider as The Pit heroically attempted to finish his liter of beer. I’d been idly watching this guy texting at the table next to us, when he looked up and caught my eye. To my horror, he stopped texting and started walking over to our table.

However, I shouldn’t have worried, I was not about to be awkwardly hit on while sitting directly next to my boyfriend. Instead, texting guy tapped me on the shoulder, and then proceeded to very gaily tell me that I just had the nicest face.

I turned bright red, presumably looking more like a nice tomato, but the adorable man kept going and going, complimenting my incredibly nice face. It was really the best welcome to DC that a girl could have asked for. So thank you, anonymous gay gentleman, you not only made my day, but proved JFK a liar to boot.**

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* I know I know, look at me sounding so native. Yay for two weeks. Well…two weeks and the internets.
** Continuity people! Links to previous posts! Err, fine, post.