The Politics of Milkshakes

Welp, this week has been so much more eventful than last.  Thank God.  I was beginning to think unemployment wasn’t very fun.

We started the weekend off right at the National Sculpture Garden, where they have a jazz concert every Friday.  Picnics and jazz and sangria in a park?  Yes please.  I could probably stay there forever.  Or at least until they kick me out.

After the jazz in the garden ended, we trekked (literally, it was far) to DuPont Circle.  What’s in DuPont Circle? SHAKE SHACK.  Oh man, oh man, oh man.  It’s a good thing I don’t live super close to it, cause I would go there every day.  After carefully studying the menu, I got a cheeseburger (the most delicious burger I’ve ever had in my life) and a Fair Trade Milkshake.  I wasn’t really paying attention to the cost in the moment, but later realized it added up so quickly because the milkshake alone was $5.

Usually, I don’t really care about if coffee is fair trade or not, and recounting this story later sounded more silly than it did at the time.  But, doesn’t it just make all those Arby’s Jamoca shakes seem so…injust? (Although in my opinion, a shake is a shake is a shake.)  But, then again, everything in this town is political.  Including dessert.

Monday afternoon, I put on my professional clothes for my first in-person interview post-grad.  And finally, I felt like I fit in with all the interns on Capitol Hill.  Let me tell you, nothing makes you feel like a bum more than strolling around the Hill in jeans.  Actually, in anything that’s not a suit.  And while my interview was for a retail job that I’m still not sure I got, it gave me something to do, somewhere to explore, and something to dress up for.

On Tuesday, I ventured out to Friendship Heights to see my friend from school, Valerie.  She nannys two adorable little boys and makes amazing pad thai, so it was worth the commute!  I was teased by all the shopping out there, so I have a destination planned once the $$$ starts rolling in.  Because that’s what happens in entry-level jobs and internships.

And finally, Wednesday was my day out.  After a long day at the office, my uncle joked, I headed out to happy hour with two friends from school (networking is working…right?).  We originally planned to go to a rooftop bar in DuPont Circle, got lost, and ended up at another restaurant.  Though the prices weren’t as good as the other place, it still gave us a place to sit for three hours and chat about college and unemployment.

After that, I hopped on the metro into Clarendon, where I was covering a comedy show for the Free Lance-Star.  Best part about it: Emily met me there!  I love that Emily lives so close to me now, it’s just like when we were in Paris.  And, I finally got my rooftop bar.  But we’ll have to go back, because by the time we were ready to order the kitchen was closed.  It’s never tragic to find a good happy hour though…there’s always another Wednesday (never thought I’d say that!).