DC Part 3: White House & Cocktails

Do you want to hear something kind of shameful but also understandable? So we bused into DC on Wednesday and had a dinner reservation at Blue Duck Tavern at 8:45 PM. D and I had planned on getting cocktails and being cool and glamorous after dinner but I sheepishly announced that I was feeling sleepy, D sheepishly agreed that she was tired, and then we sheepishly came to the decision to head straight to bed after dinner instead of dancing the night away. I guess this is what happens when you're in your mid-to-late 20s, huh?

It worked out for the best though. Because we got such a good night's sleep, we were able to do a lot of stuff during the day on Thursday (hello, Cathedral and Dumbarton Oaks) and by evening, we were still going (kind of) strong. So, after dinner, we headed towards the W Hotel for drinks and we purposely took a route that would take us past the White House so we could say "What up?" to Obama and friends.

Okay, so a fun little story about this photo. As we were walking towards the treasury, I saw what I thought was a dog sitting on the checkered tile just to the right of the statue. I turned to D and said, "What the hell is that? Is that a dog?" D replied, "I think it's a fox!" And then behind us, I heard a fellow tourist singing that 'What Does the Fox Say?' song which scared the fox. So, before I could get a pretty decent close up snap, it scurried towards the other side of the courtyard and then he went up the steps. The crap-tastic blurry photo was the best shot I have. Don't ask me why the fox was there because I don't know but it was super cute. I hope he's having a good time in DC.

So, after the little fox freak out, we headed up the block to the W Hotel. The exterior is unassuming but the interior is gorgeous. The decor is awesome; it's like Cruella de Vil's super rich cousin's house.

There are fun president themed selfie mirrors all over the place, though the scale of the silhouettes are so huge, you'd never be able to get one in actual perspective, which I think is dumb.

But enough of the inside; let's go outside. You can take the elevator up to the top floor and head over to the Altitude Lounge and get some awesome views of the city. I think it looks gorgeous at night with all of the lights but I'm sure you'd be able to see more (and recognize more) in the day time.

The bar itself is pretty decent with a good amount of seating and a live DJ. No one was dancing though; I don't know if it was our timing or if the types of people that go to the W aren't dancers. When the weather's more cooperative, there's no walls or roof but it was rather chilly that evening so I was grateful for the enclosure.

Cocktail prices are on par with NYC so we limited ourselves to two each. We had one drink upstairs before getting frustrated with the crowd and heading downstairs for our second libation. The crowd was rather strange. It was a mish-mosh of ages, from tweens who were checking out the view to overly botoxed women in their 70s. It was a mish-mosh of attire, from a guy in cargo shorts and a knapsack who looked like he was camping to women wearing what looked like their grandmother's church dress to a girl with holes in her pantyhose - and I don't mean the cool kind, I mean the kind that happened because she snagged her leg climbing out of her taxi. I don't mean to sound like a big bitchy snob but it just wasn't a scene I was used to (neither was D) so after appreciating the view, we were fine heading downstairs to chat.

The lounge area downstairs is quite decadent and nice. The chairs were plush and comfy so my tush was grateful.

After a few hours of chatting, we headed out and dreamed about the stacks of money housed in the US Treasury. I picture Scrooge McDuck's coin swimming pool.

Cheers!