Okay, here's the deal. I went to Washington, DC, with my government team last April. We placed in the top 15 out of 48, which I thought was fairly decent. These next few entries detail specific events that occured during the trip, through the eyes of people other than me, despite the fact that I wrote them. That being said, I am solely responsible for this content and it in no way reflects the views or opinions of any of the people mentioned. Please don't sue me or anything. I only have $1.25. Enjoy! -- Pat

You have to have an eye for these things. You can't just walk up to someone and ask them; that could lead to trouble. Well, maybe you can, but obviously you're not going to walk up to a cop, and then there's the undercover cops, but in a city where people are getting shot in the ass on the subway and jumping from overpasses I think the cops have their hands full without busting kids for stupid crap.

You could do it alone, but this is a big city (uh-duh) and it doesn't hurt to have an intimidating male with you. I've done it alone and I've done it with a partner. The trick is to be confident and just bust right out with it. My natural flair for conversation doesn't hurt, either. It keeps them interested, at least. And if not, I always have the twins, which especially come in handy when I'm backed into a wall, literally or figuratively.

It starts out innocently enough. We go outside 'for some fresh air' (read: so I could have a cigarette), and somehow it turns into a walk around the block, and somehow that turns into this excursion. It's an excursion I've embarked upon many times back home. It's cheaper than a fake ID and it works in a pinch, when the guy at the counter has already told you no.

There is almost always someone on the sidewalk. Old man, woman with kids...two college boys. Score! Pat was nervous at first. He's got the hook-up, so he's never had to slum it like this before. But I managed to pick two of the cutest boys we'd seen on the trip so far and Pat dropped all objections.

It's cute that they ask if we're cops before saying anything remotely incriminating. There is a goody-goody and a guy who might actually help us. We walk for blocks and blocks and I secretly hope that Pat has some idea of how to get back to the restaurant, or else we're really fucked. Figuratively, anyway, not literally, although neither of these two have been completely ruled out as potential rapists this early in the game. But again, that's why Pat's here. He probably can't fight for shit, but it looks good.

The goody-goody washes his hands of the whole thing and heads for the dorm (the boys are students at George Washington University). Our hook-up keeps us walking. He tells us we're heading for the mall at the Watergate Hotel. Since when is there a mall at the Watergate Hotel? I wonder, but quickly, because now Pat is dragging me across a busy street and I am deathly afraid of being hit by a truck. I give the guy the money before we head downstairs, so as to not arouse suspicion. We go downstairs with him and try not to look obvious.

That's when the waiting begins. We wait and wait and wait. After that, we wait some more. Pat keeps checking his watch, which is okay as a nervous tic most of the time, but it's stressing me out because we might actually be late getting back and that would suck. There appears to be no imminent end to the waiting, so I send Pat upstairs to hail a cab. Every second counts. Damn that guy, stealing our money. Bitch.

And then he comes out of the store, carrying the signature brown paper bag. See? You can trust people in big cities, I don't say to Pat because he's upstairs. That's when Pat hits the escalator running. He doesn't see us at first, but then he does. His eyes light up when he sees the bag. We thank our fast friend profusely and Pat throws himself in front of an oncoming cab. The walk is only thirteen blocks, but we'll never make it in time and I'm not looking forward to being stranded in the city. We jump out of the cab a mere block away from the bus, which is thankfully still boarding. Timing is everything.

Now it's time for my other specialty: the lie. I threw up in the bushes, you see. It was hot in the restaurant and that pizza wasn't exactly what you'd call appetizing. I'm fine now, I think, but thank God I had Pat with me or I could've gotten mugged. Works like a charm. I find a seat. Pat finds a seat. We exchange a devilish smile and then it's like the whole thing never happened...until later that night, but this is where my story ends.

My name is Daphne G, and the stuff in the bag was really good.