To be honest, I have a bit of a moral issue with going to some event, welcomed or unwelcomed, solely for the sake of getting free food. But… there is something bigger that overshadows my moral dilemma; ever since yesterday, I’ve felt that it is my duty to represent the “underdogs” in this competition. And repping the underdogs is totally more progressive than stealing food from the National Press Club.  (But also, I'm sad that I can't attempt to do the same, under our new regulations.) See, there is a unanimous agreement among all the other interns that the three winners thus far, “Hardeeharhar” Aditi Hardikar, Nick “Pastry” Pastan, and “Avarice” Ashley Wiers, are considered three of the four “favorite interns” in the Campus Progress office, with the fourth favorite being a certain video intern that is one of my competitors today. Conspiracies of the competition being rigged, and disillusionment and discouragement among the rest of the interns made me sad, but fueled my fire (and empty stomach) today. And besides, such widespread thoughts among a citizenry seldom bring forth a healthy democracy.

I got up an hour early this morning ready for a party in my tummy and was very eager to get the day started.  I had found postings on teh internetz for a very obscure conference entitled, “OMB CircularA-123—Sustaining an Effective Internal Control Program.”  I don’t even know what that means.  What I did know was that it was being held at the Willard Intercontinental, only government employees were eligible to attend, and if memory serves me right, the registration fees ranged from $400-600.

Eh… how much security and credentialing can they really do at such a huge hotel? I thought.  I figured I would give it a shot.

I arrived outside of the Willard early in the morning, determined to grab a quick bite of something fancy, then mosey on over to my second breakfast.  When I reached the front entrace, I saw a middle-aged man with a depressing bald spot, wearing a black suit, standing next to a black Suburban, and talking into some gadget.  He looked intimidating.

And y’know, there was a good chance that he might not have had anything to do with this conference on OMB CircularA-123 (which at least is fun to say).  But seeing him gave me a flashback of a certain morning this past January.  It was primary weekend in South Carolina and I had gone to a Hillary Clinton event.  At the end, I followed the crowd surrounding Hillary to try to get my Living History book signed by the lovely lady who I would later vote for.  Well, I was with my friends and it was taking really long; I decided to pull the cell phone out of my coat pocket to check the time.  Right when my hand reached into my pocket, one of her secret service agents immediately pulled it back out.  I freaked out and started apologizing immensely by reflex, explaining that I was only taking my cell phone out.  He didn’t respond.  But needless to say, serious-looking middle-aged men in black suits that talk into little gizmos scare me.

It was off to plan B—the Reserve Officers Association.  The National Healthy Marriage Resource Center, the Brookings Institution, and the Annie E. Casey foundation put on a panel about, “Healthy Marriage, Strong Families, and Child Wellbeing.”  I’d done some research and RSVP’ed for the event before time, so getting up there was no problem. 

And then came the free food.  There was a beautiful arrangement of various pastries, bagels and cream cheese, fruit salad, juices, tea, and coffee.  I piled up.

My favorite by far was the chocolate-filled croissant, so rich and flaky!  I washed all the chocolate-y and buttery "pre-gaming" in my mouth down to the party in my tummy with grapefruit juice, which gave me my 100% of my daily recommended value of Vitamin C.  Sweet.  I went up to the table again for a second helping of fruit salad.  A few of the other attendees must’ve thought that I was quite the pig, taking pictures of the food, eating voraciously, and going back up for second helpings even before the discussion began.  At one point, I unsuccessfully tried to stab a grape with my fork; instead, it bounced off the fork, flew into the air, and landed right into the middle of the aisle, where it rested next to the microphone stand that would later be used for the Q & A session.  A couple people looked at it, then at me.  I contemplated whether or not I should get up from my seat to retrieve it.  The decision-making process took too long, so I didn’t. 

Awkward.

I had put my purse, my huge binder of information, a cup of coffee, a bottle of water, and a bottle of cranberry juice all in front of my seat.  At another point, a lady tried to get to the only empty seat in my row, next to mine.  With a mouth full of a wide assortment of melons, berries and grapes, I said, “Oim thorry!”  I leaned down, but before I could start to move anything, she said, “It’s okay, I’ll go the other way... I don’t want to knock over your coffee.”  She ended up taking the long way around in order to sit next to me.

Awkward.

The panel lasted for a very, very long time.  I was there at 8:30, it ended at 10:30.  Right before I left, I took two more bottles of juice.  And being the smart person that I was, I thought that I could quickly walk the 16 or so blocks from the Capitol back to the CP office, in order to save Metro money.  Yeah, I ended up at the office a little after 11 and walked into a meeting drenched in sweat.  But Artair told me that I looked really nice, which made me feel better.  Some random dude on the street had said the same thing to me 20 minutes earlier.

So at least I was awkward and pretty.  But really, I was pretty awkward.

Lunch post is forthcoming.