Now that I have your attention, I will tell you that I really don't hate D.C. -- in fact, I lived there for four years during college and love many, many things about our nation's capital.
What I hate is all the unnecessary pomp and procedure that comes with being in the political center of the universe. Especially the people whose job seems to be keeping others from doing their job.
Let me explain.
Sunday night, a photographer and I went to an inaugural ball where dancers and musicians from our area were performing. We had received media access and permission to be there with our local groups during the event.
I was very clear about what we wanted to do and where we needed to be. The woman in charge of media access was also clear that was fine. The only time we would need the PR people with us was if we wanted to go into the gallery to see an exhibit about Lincoln's second inauguration.
When we finished our PR-escorted tour of the exhibit, the woman told us to take the stairs to the third floor where the people we were following would be performing. When we got there, the groups were nowhere to be found. From a stairwell, we spotted them on the first floor and went down to catch them.
Unfortunately, by the time we got there, the musicians and dancers had disappeared and in their stead was a different PR lady, who would not allow us to follow them back to the upper levels of the museum without a PR escort.
Even though we explained we had just come from there. And that we had been sent there solo by our previous PR escort.
To top it off, this woman needed to go check with someone else before she could escort us there. At this point, half an hour before his deadline, I thought our mild-mannered photographer might blow up.
When she returned and accompanied us to the presidential portrait gallery on the third floor, she wanted to know how long we planned on being there. I told her I had about 45 minutes to file my story. I'm guessing she didn't want to stand there babysitting us for that long because as soon as we set to work on our laptops, she disappeared.
Honestly, what were we going to do with security guards around every turn, stationed in every single room? Gouge the official portrait of our outgoing president? (just an idea...) Wreak mayhem akin to what happened at the end of Lincoln's second inaugural ball? And do it all on deadline?
She gives us too much credit.
Anyway, this kind of silliness and people with an inflated sense of self-importance are exactly why, after being awarded a White House internship in college, I quit after two days.
I couldn't work around people who were so wrapped up in the fact that they were in the White House that they didn't actually do anything except talk about which high-level person they saw when going to make a photocopy and whisper gossip back and forth.
Our nation's capital, by virtue of being the political center of the universe, seems to attract or foster or create this kind of thing.
And that, dear readers, is the reason I hate D.C.
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