Tourist season
Once upon a time, in a land far far away, I was blissfully unaware of the annoyances of tourist season. I could be sympathetic with friends and family members who had to deal with it, but it was that empty sympathy– you know, the smile and nod and pretend to have a clue how horrible the situation is while you’re composing your to-do list behind the automatic “Uh-huh”s and “That’s horrible”s.
Never again. For now I, too, have experienced that horrific descent of hundreds of people who have no clue where they’re going upon my city. Just trying to use the Metro around groups of 50 middle-schoolers in matching hoodies who are flocking around a woman with a whistle and a brightly-colored umbrella that she has thrust above her head is bad enough. But most people get to work and have eight hours of normalcy. Not for me, or any of my classmates who work in a Congressional office. Working on the Hill means that the tour groups interfere with you at work as well as on your way in. For my friends in the Senate and House, it means that their days are flooded with tours of the Capitol Building and the Senate and House office buildings, and their eyes go a little blurry from the after-effects of way too many flashes.
I have to deal with the tours as well, but in a different sense. When I’m sent to gather testimony from a hearing, I generally have four to six hearings that all start at the same time in different buildings to get to. And I’m usually in a hurry to get there, as I don’t get my assignments until right before (or sometimes even after) the hearings are set to start. The tour groups mean incredibly long lines to get into the buildings and through security–I’d say a conservative estimate on time would be a half hour to get into the building if I waited behind them–congested tunnels, subway rides with giggling pre-teens and their camera-happy chaperones, and packed-to-the-max hearing rooms. All of these factors slow my progress down, and just annoy me in general.
Not that I can’t appreciate how cool it must be for them to come through the buildings. I mean, I definitely feel how awesome the opportunity is everyday. But my understanding only goes so far when it starts to interfere with my ability to do my job. And I’m far more likely to commiserate when people make comments like “During deer season, you hunt deer. Why can’t you hunt tourists during tourist season?”
On the plus side, all of the people wandering around without a clue where they’re going have the potential to be a real positive. Confused? I would expect you to be, especially after that rather long venting session. But tourists have this habit of asking people how to get places. And when you look like you know where you’re going, they ask you. Nothing makes you feel more like a native of DC than giving directions. A month ago, that could have been me. Now, I’m the resident expert. Gives you that nice, warm and fuzzy kind of feeling. 