From the zoo, I headed to a happy hour for interns from several progressive organizations at the obligatory home of happy hours for interns from progressive organizations, the Hawk and Dove. Talk about progressive. A dashing young man from the Roosevelt Institution made sure I was provided the nourishment of nachos and a charming lady in town from Michigan bought me a beer or two. When other interns’ attention turned from munching to mingling, I went to work on their leftovers, tackling half a turkey burger and wolfing down some wings.

But I won’t dwell on the obligatory intern happy hour.

The real fun began on the walk home with a group of interns from the Center for American Progress, including a budding young blogger at ThinkProgress. In the middle of a conversation about trade between the United States and Latin American nations, I got a chance to enjoy a product of that trade. As I approached the Sewall-Belmont House and Museum from which I walked out empty-handed earlier in the day, the undeniably robust aroma of Dominican cigars filled the air. I headed straight for the entrance when a fellow intern interrupted my trance.

“Dude, you can’t just go in. That’s a private party.”

But I was not to be deterred.

“You go on without me,” I said, thinking of nothing but what lay ahead.

I entered the Sewall-Belmont where the sweet sounds of light jazz and laughter emanated from a room in the back. The friendly hosts welcomed me to the event “honoring the Tri-Caucus,” which I was informed consists of three niftily-acronymed organizations: CBA, CHSA (pronounced like someone with a strong Boston accent might say the author of the Canterbury Tales), and CAPASA. I made my way to the back room where members of  the Congressional Black Associates, the Congressional Hispanic Staff Association, and the Congressional Asian Pacific American Staff Association were nursing bottles of imported beer, including some impressive Belgian selections, next to hors d'oeuvres which looked tasty enough to alleviate any awkwardness that might ensue.

But I won’t stall with talk of tarama salata.

For the Holy Grail of this pilgrimage to 2nd Street and Constitution Avenue was not to be found in the phenomenal finger food, but in the source of that full-bodied aroma that only a Macanudo cigar could produce.

A kind woman staffing the event must have sensed what I was looking for. We locked eyes and she motioned for me to follow her. She ducked behind a table for a minute and when she reappeared, I beheld a beautiful wooden box, the contents of which I could only fantasize about until this moment. Then, after a second that seemed like eternity, she opened the box and presented me with my very own Macanudo.

I fumbled for words, but could produce no noise. Finally, I gathered the strength to thank her profusely.

“Can’t nobody caucus like the Tri-Caucus caucuses!” I beamed. “You guys are gonna be all over the Campus Progress blog.”

“Oh, there’s no need for that,” she assured me, perhaps thinking of whether this behavior would violate the Hill’s new ethics rules.

I decided to put away my Dominican delicacy to share with the winner of the Free Food-A-Thon and began my journey home.