Her Ladyship

Notes from the gutter.

Friday, April 01, 2005


Last night I was out at Helix for a fairly extended happy hour. I was with my VP, who is awesome, if something of an enabler (every time I neared the bottom of my glass, she'd helpfully point it out and ask me if I wanted to order another drink. Why yes, I think I do). Now, I love Helix. It is indeed, as they brag on their matchbooks, "a world gone fabulous." You can't beat the happy hour prices, the waitstaff is to a T courteous and friendly, and their Pajama Party cocktail is the nectar of the gods.


Last night was weird. Normally, it's hard to get a fix on the crowd at Helix. Sometimes it's DC's equivalent of the bridge and tunnel set, sometimes it's government worker bees on happy hour, sometimes it's the young and overprivileged. But last night there was something in the air. Two burly firemen were making out in the corner and I'm fairly sure they were straight. A group of 20-somethings in shirt sleeves and ties cleared a path so that one of them could do a standing backflip in the middle of the bar; then, apparently not satisfied, a second guy in the group did another standing backflip (were they traveling circus members here to court Congress? Olympians off of their training schedule? frat boys with way too much free time on their hands?). And a homeless guy was lurching around, clutching a glass of champagne. Was there a full moon last night and I missed it?


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