seen+heard --> The 31 Foggy Bottom bus, a week or so ago, as it's cruising its way down Wisconsin Avenue through Georgetown: on jumps a large-boned fifty-ish gent dressed in good qual business casual. Odd spot, the 31 bus, for the likes of him, but oh well. Then, ha! His cell phone rings and, in a booming talking-head pundit-like voice (reverberating through the whole bus) he answers. It's obviously his secretary (or some other such personal care-giver) "Oh hi, Bev! Tell me the address of the restaurant where I'm supposed to meet him . . . ok, thanks! . . . yes, yes, I'm in a cab on my way there now. Should be there in fifteen minutes or so."
In a cab?
Forgive me if I burst out laughing. Mister Business Casual just became Mister Stuffed Shirt. Ya think his Bev could hear, in the background of that conversation, the bus voice calling out "Stop requested" at intervals? Does Bev know what a pretentious dweeb her boss is? You betcha she does. Is this a great town, or what?