The other night, I participated in a marketing event/dinner/thing for a new development here in the District. A friend of a friend was looking for "young professionals" in DC so I was recommended and invited to Indeblu for a night of free food and drink, and of course, some focus groupy discussion. Needless to say, they had me at "free food."
First off, for a DC focus group, the table was missing a pretty key element: WHERE WERE ALL THE BLACK PEOPLE? Indeed, for a second, I thought I was at a Boston area focus group because I was surrounded by a bunch of white dudes, a handful of white chicks, and three Asian women. I've been to Klan meetings with more diversity. (Ok, no. I've never been to a Klan meeting. Nor would I want to.) So we sat down around this big table, food was brought out, and, as a video camera captured our every move (and, I'm sure, the unfortunate zit on the right side of my nose that was angled DIRECTLY at the camera), we were instructed by the head of this shindig (let's call him Fearless Leader) to go around the room and introduce ourselves.
As we went around, I realized that the entire marketing team (5 people, I think) is in from NYC. I stupidly assumed that they were DC-ites, but I guess that was naïve of me. As I let this sink in, I came to the realization that they were not ready for what was about to happen. I think I was correct. From the very beginning, Fearless Leader kept having to interrupt us to get back on track. Why? Because DC-ers love nothing more that to whine about their city. The biggest re-tracking occurred after our discussion turned to the de facto segregation of the District (a convo that, I promise, I did not start). We also talked about crime, boxy buildings, and tourists. This was clearly not where Fearless Leader wanted us to go. Also funny was that he kept using the term "Downtown" as if it meant anything in DC. When asked to define "downtown" we all looked around blankly for a sec until someone said, "Well, isn't that the combination of, like, Metro Center and Gallery Place/Chinatown?" The concept of identifying neighborhood by metro stop was something the New Yorkers had difficulty comprehending. I also don't think they understood why we were all much more interested in what people did for a living than where they lived in the city. Silly New Yorkers.
The next step involved breaking into groups and writing on chart paper. After I reverentially took the chart paper in my hands and mentioned, natch, that I was a former educator, I was immediately volunteered to do the writing. I'm certain that the marketing folks were psyched when we suggested unattractive outer buildings to dissuade tourists, no chain eateries (one girl was particularly at odds with Legal Seafood), and a serious limit on things that might be considered child-friendly. There was also a series of pictures that we were asked to respond to, which I did by writing on them in magic marker. My two favorites were the Xs I drew over the faces of children on a jungle gym and the words "NO MORE FREAKIN' MONUMENTS" written over a particularly statuesque fountain.
Still, the best part of the evening came at the end. A bunch of the marketers (but not Fearless Leader) wanted to go out for more food and drinks so, of course, I obliged. The only other DCer (a neat lobbyist named Emily) and I took them down to Jaleo. Once there, there were more conversations about DC and jobs and whatnot. Before you know it, Emily and I, sitting diagonally across the table from one another, start talking about politics. We were so into our conversation that I actually didn't notice that the bill had been paid and one of the women had stood up and was making her way toward the door. Another was stifling yawns. Once we got outside, probably because Emily and I were still deconstructing Barack's performance at the debate last week, two of the marketers actually seemed to be running away from us. They barely turned around to say goodnight.
Afterward, I was standing on the street with Emily and the last of the New Yorkers (my friend's friend who hooked me up with this gig, David) and we just had to laugh. Truth is, this is what happens when DC-ers get together. Not exclusively or all the time, but definitely more often than not. We like to bitch about our city, not because we don't like living here (I think most of us do) but because I think we're all a little bitter. It's such an ambitious town that everyone, deep down, sort of wants to be President of the United States. The fact that none of us are the President probably provides the drive to discuss politics and other government-related things -- not to mention just enough bitterness to cause each of us to occasionally turn into our very own version of Furious Commuter.
I guess we don't see the average New Yorker's need to babble on and on about how AWESOME our neighborhood is. And that, I think, was what the New Yorkers were after. They consistently asked about where we lived and what we thought of it. The best someone came up with about their 'hood was that they don't let female friends walk around alone there late at night. I live in Dupont. It's all about older gay men and baby strollers. Big whoop. I rather get someone else's opinion on the the debate or talk about someone's work at the State Department or even hear about FCC filings.
I think last nightI realized that I fit in here. And that feels nice...particularly because I'm starting a new job here in two and a half weeks.
This past weekend, I was in beautiful New Jersey for Nancy's beautiful wedding. It was a truly lovely ceremony and reception and a ton of fun. I was still a bit hurting from the prior night's festivities when I boarded my 6:22pm train at 7pm. The train was packed, but I didn't care so much. My plan was to pass the hell out the second I hit the seat. I was passing between cars when my headphones were pulled off my neck, where they'd been resting. The cord had caught on one of the train attendants. He apologized. I said, "No sweat," and kept walking. And then I looked at my headphones and realized that the right ear piece had been completely ripped off. Sweet.
