This is the story of the time Kate and I ventured into the city for a night out, took every Uber in town, and ended the night with one wallet less than we had when we started it.
You see, we had grand plans to go out on U Street (a popular area in DC) to celebrate a birthday. We spent, oh, I don’t know, four hours deciding what to wear. Our conversations went a little something like this:
Me: I HATE WINTER. I JUST WANT TO WEAR A DRESS.
Kate: I literally have no clothes (stares into overflowing closet).
Me: CURSE JEANS, CURSE WINTER, WHAT IS IT LIKE TO BE WARM.
Kate: These pants? These shoes? This shirt? Tights? Which bag?
Me: WIIIIIIIIIINTER (shakes hands towards the heavens)
We eventually ended up wearing a dress (me, shocker) and a backless shirt (Kate). And because we are sooooooo cool (please read the sarcasm in that) we decided against wearing jackets. Mistake number one.
We hop in our Uber (a taxi service) and head to U Street, assuming that we would arrive on U Street and immediately know where to go. Mistake number two. After being dropped off at a random bar, we walk inside to find that it is a dive bar. The type that we absolutely love, but not exactly what we were dressed for in our black outfits and high heels. Heading upstairs for a quick shot before we headed somewhere else, we passed two men in footie pajamas and Hunter boots. And when I say footie pajamas I mean the real deal, the kind with the butt flap. To be honest, they fit in more at this bar than we did.
After attempting our shots and abandoning them because they were disgusting, we walked outside to try and figure out a plan. Keep in mind we are standing outside with no jackets, in the middle of the Never Ending Winter. We step into the metro to head to a different area, where I’m approached by a creepy guy and when he asks if I have a boyfriend or not I forget to lie and say yes, meaning he continues to talk to us. Mistake number three. We manage to ditch him and head down into the tunnel, only to decide a few minutes later to head to H Street.
Another 20 minutes and another Uber later we end up at a cool bar to meet up with the original birthday group. The bar seems very promising and we decide that our night is finally about to really take off! We head to the bar for shots only to find a sign that reads “Sorry, internet is out on the entire street, cash only.” Who carries cash?!?! Who?! We had four dollars between the two of us. Not really our fault but what the hell, mistake number four. Cool.
At this point we danced around on a dance floor with five other people, listening to the worst DJ ever, until we finally couldn’t take it anymore. We hoped in our second to last, but most entertaining Uber of the night, and headed back to our neighborhood and a bar we knew and loved.
We walked in, felt like we were at home (or as homie as a bar can feel), and began to seriously dance our night away. I handed Kate my drink for a moment so that I could zip up my cross body bag–I’m asking to be pick-pocketed with it open like this!–and continued with my night. Fifth and final mistake of the evening.
Only to reach my hand into my purse for my phone a few minutes later to find I had in fact been pick-pocketed. See ya later, wallet.
The night ended with two hours spent on the phone canceling cards and ordering new ones. Maybe not quite the fun night Kate and I were looking for, but hey, it was a good story, right?