Drinking Through It (Part 2 of 3)

Some people go to Washington to see the monuments. Me, I strictly go to catch gaudy drag shows at questionable gay clubs.

After a few round of drinks and shots and the St. Gregory Hotel bar, we headed off in search of dinner. It started to rain so we were forced to make a decision quickly and settled on a French place called "La Fourchette." (That's "The Fork" for you Franco-challenged Americans.) The rich and delicious dinner included a few bottles of Chinon and profiteroles for desert, a welcome change from my recent get-ready-for-Miami fare.

Full and more than a little buzzed, we cabbed it over to Chaos, Washington, DC's self-proclaimed "most diverse gay nightclub." I didn't know what to think when we walked in. Black and white linoleum tiled the dance floor and leopard-print tablecloths covered the tables. The walls were decorated with posters of people ranging from Madonna and Wonder Woman to Lindsay Lohan.

Once the drag show started and we'd put back a few drinks, everyone was well into it, though. We found a table in the back where we recuperated from ten minutes of laughing over a hilarious toilet-paper-shoe incident and spent the rest of the evening back there talking smack, outside smoking or getting down on the dance floor.

Unfortunately, DC isn't as cool as New York and the bars close at 2 a.m. (I also find their "You do the math" subway system questionable.) Being so busy drinking through it, we hadn't made it to the liquor store before going out so we were left with little option but to head back to the hotel. Everyone was pretty drunk and we managed to stay up and goof off until at least 5a.m.