People make a big to-do about the cherry blossoms on the Tidal Basin in Washington DC. It's a rite of spring and a tricky one to catch. The "peak" of the blossoms is notoriously difficult to predict and this year, as with last year, many of the cherry blossom festival events took place when the temps outside were ridiculously cold and the cherry trees were barely in bud, let alone full flower.
Last year, I tried about four times to see them at peak and it never worked out. But this year...
So beautiful, right? It looked like pink snow lining the Basin. I wasn't, however, the only one there.
Between the school groups, the senior citizens, and the rest of the hordes (in the middle of week, come on people, doesn't anyone work!?) I'm half amazed no one fell in (notice there's no guardrail by the water.)
And where there are lots of people, there are strange people. I was sitting on a bench, prime real estate, and an older lady asks if she can sit next to me.
"Of course," I tell her.
We chat, nothing serious, and it comes up that she and her husband moved to DC 8 years ago because of her husband's job and she really likes here because they're both really into politics. And this being DC, I ask "Oh, is your husband in politics?"
"I can't tell you what he does," she says in a rush. "I can't tell you."
"No. I can't tell you what he does. I mean, I wish I could. I really do. But I can't." Before I can get another word out, she fixes me with a look. "There's a lot of that here." And without waiting for me to respond, she mumbles "it was nice meeting you," and scurries off.
What. The. Hell? I sat on that bench a while longer, pondering just how weird people are and that nothing I make up in my books is nearly as weird as reality.