Overslept. Mother of pearl. Turn on CNN to see our “best-case-scenario” spot was taken at 5am. Mother of wishful thinking. Pack on six layers of clothing just to find upon walking outside it wasn’t enough. Mother of wool. Sheep?
Walk 10 blocks to the Metro and can’t feel toes. Mother of gazpacho. Hop on the Metro and start to feel toes again. Mother of hot sauce. Due to inauguration traffic many of the central DC stops are closed, but lucky for us “L’Enfant is now open,” said the train conductor. Mother of hearts, stars, horse shoes, clovers, and blue moons.
But like magic has a tendency to do, it’s get taken away as we approach the L’Enfant stop. Mother of Indian giving. The conductor says on the intercom, “L’Enfant is now closed. Next stop, Pentagon. Arlington, Virginia.” Mother of swimming across the Potomac to get back to DC!
Sulking and resigned to the fact that not only are we going to miss having any chance at seeing Obama on a jumbotron, we probably won’t get past security in time for the speech. Decide we hate the Metro and it was their fault for ruining our day. Start to sarcastically sing, “Vacation all I ever wanted. Vacation had to get away.” Mother of the Go-Gos.
Noticing our temperament, a police officer tips us off that there is a free shuttle bus to the inauguration. Mother of running for your inauguration life. Make the bus. Mother of losing sensation in toes again.
Dropping us at the edge of the mall, we follow the masses. We walk along a path attempting to see over the masses to find a clear entry point. Mother of awesomeness for super tall friends. All of a sudden, we are right below the Washington Monument. Mother of no security line. Stand waiting to be kicked out or frisked. Nothing happens.
Toes freeze then freeze again. Waiting. Burning sensations in feet. Sit down. Too cold. Stand up. Too cold. Ice cubes. Glaciers. Jokes about wind chill. Toes being mauled by an angry polar bear. Mother of arctic mist.
Frostbite. Freezebite. Frozebite.
Mention again my toes just fell off in my boots. Start humming sounds of warmth – mister sun, sun mister golden sun.
Make note that even time is frozen.
Give up on complaining and start to man up. Take photos, watch the man next to us chew tobacco and watch his chew spit freeze on the ground. Learns Obama goes by Barry to friends and family.
Watch the non-frozen arrive on the jumbotron. OBAMA sighting! Clapping unintentionally dulled by gloves. Loud noises. OBAMA! Comment on his composure and how nervous he must be looking out at the millions of people dots to the horizon and beyond. He speaks. Mother of amazingness! Every word Obama he speaks we hear in double because the delay of the sound system at the jumbotron behind us. Mother of Obama watching from the heavens. Overwhelming cheers when Obama mentions non-believers. Mother of forgotten frozen feet. As he finishes his speech no one moves in hopes he will say something more. Obama exits stage right.
The ants retreat from the anthill to the places where they are from. Realize feet froze even more during speech and can barely walk. Mother of lack of blood flow. Get trapped in porta potty maze. Take photos of the most people I’ve ever seen in one place at the same time. Continue through the porta potty maze. Dead end. Poo smell. Help! Masses of people and confined by poo. Eventually, find an exit.
Find freedom from the masses on a side street. Mother of American freedom.