When Anne and I were 15 or so (the summer before or after sophomore year--I forget right now which one, but I remember Anne was "dating" Garrett), we used to find hopping on the metro and going down into Georgetown endlessly entertaining. We did it quite frequently. That summer I was sorta a little bit goth and so was Anne. We visited a store called Smash that sold music, clothes, and accessories for the would-be punk rocker. I spent a lot of allowance money down there.
Georgetown has since become quite a bit more young family-oriented (I guess the hipsters of the late 90s have all settled down or something) and preppy, so Smash did less business and closed down. I haven't shopped there in quite awhile (though I still have fond memories of Manic Panic hair dye and the first time I did purple streaks in my then still blond hair), so I didn't really know what had happened to it.
Until last night, that is.
I went out with Mike, a co-worker buddy from the hotline, to Adams Morgan to see a friend of his from when he used to work at CDepot in College Park. I thought it was a funny coincidence when he said that this friend works at a record store called Smash in Adams Morgan. Wait, a punk store became a chain?
But the story was a little more interesting than that. We met up with his friend Peter and Peter's boss Daisy, who co-owns the store. She told me how she worked for the Smash in Georgetown until the owner decided to close it up. Then about five months ago, she re-opened it on 18th street in Adams Morgan with a fellow Smash employee. Wow! It's like rediscovering a favorite childhood toy!
Daisy and Peter were good people, and I shall have to inform Anne of the awesomeness. She will find it very entertaining.
On a side note, we met up with them at a wonderful bar called Pharmacy, that must have been the only place I've ever been in Adams Morgan where on a Saturday night you can actually have a nice conversation with friends at a table. It was populated, but by no means crowded. And they had a delicious cheese plate. Cheese is very yummy.
We caught the last 15 minutes of a jazz show at a little club across from The Black Cat, but the name of the place escapes me at the moment. Something like U and has the number 57 in it or something. Anyhow, I was pretty tipsy at that point because I think a couch on the street was speaking to me (someone wrote "Fuck You Couch" on it in big black letters), but it was good music and entertaining fun. A fine way to bid farewell to my city and its nightlife.
Good times, so to speak.