You’ll get a lot of confused looks. If you tell a cab driver in New York to take you to “Washington,” they might start heading to the state. If you tell a flight attendant you want a ticket to “Washington,” they will ask, “Which one? The one with the White House or the one with the Space Needle?” The “D.C.” is your GPS clarifying device. It’s the difference between ordering a “hot dog” and a “Chicago-style hot dog.” One is simple, the other is a whole complicated, wonderful mess.
So next time someone asks you what D.C. stands for, you can smile. You can say, “District of Columbia – it’s the political equivalent of a backyard built on a swamp, named after an explorer who never saw it, and governed by 700,000 people with sarcastic license plates.” You’ll sound smart, and you might even get a laugh. Just don’t forget to stretch your feet before visiting.
And remember, the “D.C.” isn’t just letters. It’s a promise that you’re about to see a lot of marble, some very serious-looking people in suits, and at least one squirrel that has mastered the art of stealing your sandwich. Welcome to the district.
