I started out my day on Saturday by heading out to the Waffle House in Dumfries, thinking it was close to the blood drive I’d signed up for. Two things wrong with that. The first is that I should have checked. It was not. It took me an hour to get from the restaurant to the hospital. I figured since the address was near Dulles Airport, I was golden. And, in fact, that wasn’t my only dumbass attack that day. I was getting a Gatorade and a water bottle at 7-Eleven before going to said Waffle House and locked my keys in my car. I’d taken my debit card out of my backpack, and accidentally dropped my keys in, along with my wallet, and closed the door behind me. I have a plastic key in my wallet in case I get locked out, therefore my key and my backup key were both as useful as a spork on a ribeye. All the time I would have spent stuffing my face with waffles and bacon was lost as I went to find a mechanic to bail me out. He arrives, has a hell of a time getting the door open, and about 15 minutes go by before he realizes the hatchback is unlocked. I have no idea why. I’ve needed a certain key for it since I got the car- copies won’t work, and it has never been unlocked in the history of the time I’ve owned it. The only thing I can think of is that I might have loosened the locking mechanism with a wire hanger, because I did try the hatchback before I ran to get the mechanic. The only good part was that when he discovered that my car was unlocked, he gave me half my money back.
I got to the blood drive 45 minutes after my scheduled appointment, having signed up to donate whole blood. But then an idea came to me. I said, “do you have more need for whole blood or for platelets?” They said, “oh my God… bless you… we have WAY more need for platelets.” So, I get all the testing done and my iron is too low. Jesus H. Christ on a pogo stick. I should have known. I haven’t had any red meat in ages and it’s the second day of my period. I mean, come on. Who doesn’t know that? Despite not actually having given anything, I’m still eligible for a t-shirt and a Redskins game ticket. I chose Redskins vs. Vikings for nefarious reasons. I already have a Vikings jersey (Chris Kluwe, who is a punter, but when people ask me what position he plays, I say “blogger“). By the time I got there, Santana Moss was already gone, so that autograph was down the drain, even though I brought a Sharpie for my t-shirt.
I’d heard about Munch ice cream from a newspaper article… I think it was in the Washington Post, but I’ve slept since then. It’s in Annandale at a collection of indoor food carts at The Block. I figured since I don’t get across the river that often, I might as well go there and check it out. I got a pork belly bánh mì at Balo Kitchen, complete with french fries, which did not leave me any room for dessert…. however, being full has never stopped me from eating dessert before. At Munch, I got a blueberry earl grey ice cream sandwich, which they make by putting the hard packed ice cream on a donut and running it quickly through a panini press. Then, they top it with condensed milk and your choice of cereal. I said I wanted fruity pebbles, but I got frosted flakes. Close enough. It was delicious…. and if that weren’t enough of a good time, the University of Houston football game was on a projection screen in front of me. Since I am only 5’2, I’m pretty sure the players were bigger than me, wrapped in their “redvolution” glory. I didn’t stay for the whole game, but I should have. I was in such a food coma that I almost fell asleep at a red light…. and this was after the world’s largest Diet Coke. Maybe I should have ordered coffee with dessert. Life lessons for next time, because Munch is only the greatest and best excuse for crossing the river in the entire world…. Next to selflessly giving blood, of course… selfless… yeah, that’s right :::wearing free t-shirt and looking forward to a Vikings win:::