Very simply, Bastille Day is my favorite of the French national holidays. I’m quite aware that it’s yours, too. So what better place to celebrate than Bistrot du Coin in Dupont Circle, where I once had the most wonderful meal of my life.
So I’m getting down with the getdown in a hot sweaty sexy dance party…
… and all the sudden, the Real World DC rolls in. The party quickly got stupid. It went from so-crowded-you-can’t-move to so-douchy-you-can’t-breath faster than you can say “stop being polite, and start being real.”
I know I’m not the first to say this, but I want the Real World out of my town. Just after I get that dark-headed Real Worlder with the “wedding band” to come out to one of my races. Hey, who doesn’t want to race on (M)TV?