So we headed off bright and early to the High School Rugby Championships, and even though we were a tiny bit late, it didn’t matter because we still beat our client there.



After working out the rather awkward meetup situation and chatting for a while, he introduced us around to a few people, schmoozed and oozed marketing speak to a couple of strong potentials, watched a couple of games, and finally managed to track down the person that our client was saying we absolutely had to meet. He was looking to buy a software suite like ours, with his own money, within the next week, had already talked to our competitors, and wanted to make some comparisons. That’s an awesome situation for us, because in direct comparison, we blow our competitors out of the water. So, we made contact, passed around business cards, and called back to home base to get them to send him materials and a proposal, and... with all the introductions our client wanting to make and a bit of a drive yet to make DC, hightailed it out of there.

Continuing from yesterday’s theme of the beautiful drive (as we were going pretty much over the same road in the opposite direction, for a large portion of the time), we concluded with the gorgeous George Washington Memorial Parkway, which is... just really really pretty. The kind of road that made us want to turn around and do it a couple more times before we arrived. Still, we were hungry and thirsty and so we decided to check into our hotel and wander off in the direction of the White House in search of an eatery.

Now for the bizarre bit. It was Saturday evening – around 7pm. It would be light for another couple of hours. We were in the city centre, in an area that is not only a major tourist attraction but has a large number of civil servants living, working, and requiring sustenance. I mean, I guess the civil servants weren’t out eating at that time, but the tourists were still pretty ubiquitous. But do you think we could find anywhere? Eventually, on the way back, when I had a pounding dehydration headache, we found a tiny liquor store that was open and fortunately they also had a case of Nantucket Nectar, which is just non-alcoholic juice. Oh, hurrah. (Also, I felt the need to write a Nantucket limerick in honour of the occasion, but I’m too lazy. So there.)



Oh, and yeah, also rather cool: The White House, which has set me to humming a constant loop of the theme from The West Wing for the foreseeable future. I wish I had an account I could do a poll, but maybe I can get a straw poll in comments. Is the above a picture of the front of the White House? Or the back? Because this became a bone of contention between the two of us – until we walked around to the other side and saw the picture below, at which point I claimed victory and Hubby continued mock-defending his clearly absurd position.



A few days later, however, a security guard stirred things up yet again when I was asking if we could get through to walk past the front, and he said that actually the other side was generally accepted to be the front. *headdesk* I guess I can see that the one with the main sort of driveways would be considered the front, but... well, when compared to the “back”, it looks more like a service entrance to me. :P

In any case, after our walk, a few photos, and the much-needed juice, we stopped back at the hotel to check the location of an actual resturaunt in our guide book, and headed off again to Georgia Brown’s, where we ordered a bottle of wine to celebrate getting past our client and dug into their wonderful Southern Cuisine. Somewhat more sensibly than Hubby, knowing what Southern Cuisine was likely to mean about the portion size, I ordered an appetiser only. The Jumbo Scallop BLT (when even the appetisers have the word “jumbo” in them, you know you’re in trouble) was pretty darn good, and excellently sized for a person of my stomach capacity. Hubby’s towering mound of rice and seafood, however, became a serious impediment to conversation at the table as we had to crane our necks to see over or around it and began to exert discernable gravitational effects on the condiments. (Yes, thank you, Hubby, the above is not a literal statement of fact. But it was extremely large.)

Also interesting about that evening was that we got talking to the couple at the next table in the restaurant when the lady received the same dish as Hubby had. They were... interesting. Casually rich and powerful. It was interesting to meet people with those kind resources in a country where the campaign donations are such a big deal. Interesting indeed.