On Friday evening, Shaun and I went out to the bars in the Dupont Circle area, after dinner at Fuzio. And I realized once again that I'd been missing precisely nothing by no longer going out to bars on regular basis. We had a drink at the Fireplace and then Omega, and poked our head (very) quickly into JRs. It's just not my thing; all those guys just standing around year after year staring uncomfortably at other guys. At least we got an early night.

Next morning, we checked out of our hotel and into another one just off Dupont Circle. The reason for our move wasn't the shady neighborhood we'd been staying in. Nor was it the cockroaches in the bathroom even. It was the lack of hot water that was the final straw. Boy, I will not make the mistake ever again of using one of those online discount hotel websites.

Still, it was a beautiful, cool Fall day, and I celebrated it by going for one of my favorite runs, once we'd checked in. The beginning of Rockcreek Park was just a block away, and if you run a ways along by the roadside there, you come to a path that leads up through Georgetown, and then along the Ohio and Chesapeake canal.

After I'd returned to the hotel and showered, Shaun had still not even begun his elaborate "toilette", so I walked over to Starbucks and sat outside with the New York Times. But the weather has been so changeable; a particularly strong gust of wind blew the newspaper out of my hands. Once I'd retrieved it, I retired inside to finish it, while scoping out the preppy gay boys passing the windows.

Eventually, Shaun joined me, and we decided to take a drive to the George and Martha Washingtons estate, Mount Vernon, in Virginia. The drive along the Potomac en route to Mount Vernon must be one of the most beautiful near-urban drives in the country; a winding, smooth highway hugging close to the river, with bike trails and hiking paths under the trees leading down to the shore. In a few weeks, it will be even more beautiful once the foliage reaches its Fall peak.

Every room in the old house is painted a difficult (original) color - this was my favorite - I'd love a room in this color.

Shaun next to the house, with the Potomac in the background.

The mansion in the background.

From the front.

We planned for ourselves a great evening. First, Shaun took me out for a wonderful meal at an expensive restaurant named Vedalia. I had lobster blintzes, and rack of lamb, with a couple of glasses of wine, and it was absolutely delicious. We ate early so that we could get in line for the last minute tickets at a theater called (I think) The Studio. They were showing a play called "Far East", about a young, upper-class Navy lieutenant stationed in Japan after the Korean War, and falling in love with a Japanese girl. I'm not terribly keen on theater - it's probably one of my least favorite art-forms, ranking only just barely above ballet and poetry. But I have a thing about the Navy, so I was prepared to enjoy it. Which I did. The story and acting was, as is usual in the theater, "theatrical" and contrived, in my humble opinion. But I loved the Navy stuff, and the man who played the senior Navy officer had a fatherly, naturalistic style of acting which fully matched my favorite old stereotype of an old sea-dog - the type you see in old World War II Navy movies. Oh, and the main character - the young Lieutenant, had a beautiful, smooth hunky gay body, which provoked audible intakes of breath when it was revealed briefly towards the end of the play.

Afterwards, we returned to the hotel to change into our "club" clothes. In my case, what I call my "hip-hop" jeans (low-hung baggy Gap jeans) and a white t-shirt. The places we were going were way over in this kind of noman's land on the other side of the Capitol. Even the street names were weird - One and a Half Street. The first place we went to was "Wet", a sleazy bar where in all four corners, young men dance naked massaging very occasional hard-ons, or take a shower at the far end of the bar. Most of the men were way too skinny to be appealing, but I suppose it was one of those things you have to see, just to say you've seen it.

Almost next door is the big Saturday night gay club, Nation. The usual thudding, ear-assaulting techno music and shirtless boys. But the men aren't a patch on San Francisco - sorry Washington. We didn't stay too long; and we were home by one- thirty. My brief stay in the D.C. area was nearly over.

In the morning, I was sad to say goodbye to Shaun. We'd had a great few days together, and I was not looking forward to returning home to my job tomorrow. I wished I could just stay in D.C. for a few more days and enjoy the Fall weather. But I suppose I have to be a big boy and return to the real world back home. I did my duty, and arrived at the airport over three hours early. Of course, the place was deserted, and I was in the Admirals Club by ten o'clock, with two and a half hours to wait until boarding.

A deserted Washington Dulles terminal.

In the Admirals Club