Angelina M. Lopez
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Contemporary Romance Author, Hyperromantic
My taste buds were thrilled and my waistline was terrified when I discovered that there would be a branch of the famous D.C. diner opening in Arlington, on my side of the Potomac. How would I resist the thick, spicy half-smokes smothered in Ben's chili when I no longer had close-to-impossible parking or a two-train Metro ride separating me from them? When I visited the restaurant at 1725 Wilson Boulevard in Clarendon a few weeks ago, it was even worse than I feared.
The sandwich shop on upper 14th St., NW transforms into a comfy-casual trattoria on Wednesday through Sunday nights that serves a weekly-changing, four-course Italian tasting menu that does all the work for you. With few options but all of them outstanding, dinner at G was the lazy cherry on my takin'-it-easy cake.
Eighties and '90s-retro dance nights are plentiful in the DMV and would seem like the perfect option for a fun night out for us In-Betweeners, a chance to embrace our past and dance like we did at prom. However, the popularity of these nights with the under-30 crowd has made me feel a little old and silly at them. And a little…annoyed, like the event has been co-opted by people who think we went around wearing neon all the time.
Okay. Maybe I don't hate the 9:30 Club. Maybe I just hate those two lumbering boy-men, those big boys with scraggly beards and fuzzy hair and heavy-rimmed glasses who were trying to get around me the last time I was at the 9:30 Club. I didn't know I was blocking their way. I didn't know until I heard a, "Umm...excuse me...ma'am."
