So, a bunch of con buddies got together in DC, and shenanigans were had. This being one of them.

I exaggerate SLIGHTLY, in that the Smithsonian guys actually did at least look up as we breezed through. Also, the food court in question WAS surrounded by IRS buildings, and that’s as good a reason as any to fear violent reprisal at all times. Still, the fact remains that a rinkydink food court had tighter security than the Smithsonian Museum of American History. Chew on that.

(Historical Notes: Past Me is trying hard to create the impression that this was a relatively normal type of normal outgoing normal person interaction I was all the time having.  Past Me is being misleading again.  Not only was it becoming somewhat rare for me to venture down to the city part of the city at all, never mind the touristy stuff, but actually hanging out with other people at all was very much an anomaly by this point.  I remember I had a few days off of work around this time, and at the end of them I was running some errands.  As I was paying for whatever at the checkout, it occurred to me that the cashier was the first human being I’d directly interacted with since I left work several days before.  In fact, whatever response I said to the guy were the first words I’d said out loud in several days.  And that’s not even the most isolated I got, just you wait…)