I woke up at 6:00 a.m. with a grin on my face and a skip in my step. I got changed, brushed my pearly whites and ran out the door. I left in in such haste that I missed breakfast.
After getting off of a crowded subway, I saw boat-load of people swarming the entrance to the National Mall. We waited and waited, and after three hours it appeared as if I might not get through security. I thought I would miss the second inauguration of the first black president. SMH.
I did what any one would do in my position: start a slow clap. I’d never done that before, and it wasn’t that great, but it was sort of cool. After the slow clap, a chant erupted: “Let us in! Let us in!” Curiously enough, it worked, and we all got to go in. I was no longer SMH.
By 10:30 a.m. I was standing in front of the Capitol building, surrounded by people trying to find their friends. One woman trying to find her friend Eileen was told to “shut the F*U$C&K up,” by me.
Right after I yelled at the nice woman, I realized how hungry I was. I tried to ward off the hunger by telling the guy next to me that he should have chosen X-PRO instead of Waldeen on Instagram, but that didn’t satiate me. By the time Senator Chuck Schumer began the Seder—I mean the inaugural ceremonies—I was so hungry that I couldn’t focus on how cold I was. After the President took his oath, I blacked out from hunger.
When I resumed creating memories (“blacked in,” colloquially), I was eating a jumbo pretzel and people were applauding the President’s speech. I went back to my friend’s house and re-watched what I just witnessed—it was a great speech. I wish I’d been there.
