the green house

  Instructions were to meet at the Green House by noon so that the early arrivals could grab lunch together. I didn’t want to be late on my first day, so, at about 11:40 I arrived on the steps of 331, on the corner of 8th and D, at the green house. I knocked on the door. No answer. I took my glove off and knocked again. Still no answer. Something seemed wrong, to say the least, so I called Tmatt and told him I was waiting outside. He said to knock when I got to the door and that someone would answer. Odd I thought, as I had already knocked twice, but I knocked again. This time, the door opened! Finally I was going to get out of the cold!

 

  To my surprise an older-looking woman in her nightgown unpleasantly asked me what I wanted. She was certainly not the person I had expected, but I told her I was there to see Tmatt for the Washington Journalism Center. By this point, I began to get that sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach like I’d made some sort of mistake.

     “Who’s that? What’s that?” she grunted. At that point I began feebly apologizing, saying that I must have the wrong green house…

    And did I ever. Lesson #1 in Washington: the Green House isn’t actually green. Green, I would learn is the last name of a woman to whom the building was dedicated. The door to the Green House is green, but the house itself is red. As for the address, the number 7 on the green house with a white door looks remarkably like a 1. However, there is only one 331 on D street, and that is on the house with a green door.

    Lesson #2 in Washington: people who live two doors down from each other may never have met, much less had a conversation with one another. Here is this woman living 10 steps away from a building full of college students, and she seemed to have no idea what I was talking about. This is particularly strange to me, seeing how I come from a neighborhood that watches each other like Gladys watched the Stephens family in Bewitched.

    It was within these first few minutes of my first day that I was forced to realize that Washington, D.C. has it’s own set of rules.

Comments

[Harrison]

Wow, I still remember that first day. I'm confident you've got the best story though- And to think I didn't hear it until now :-)

[Jon S. 2006 Alum]

If you think that was an interesting run-in, just you wait for the unique individuals you'll meet/see while on the metro or riding the bus. Oh the stories you'll have by the time you leave.