I’m aggressively against partaking in any Georgetown Waterfront event because I despise the people that congregate there.  I find the scenery and ambience of the area particularly soothing so it feels catastrophically wasteful to have it infected by an abundance of tools.  How I long to relax comfortably along the Potomac River while engaging in sweet conversation with a stiff long island iced tea.  I can’t imagine feeling a shred of sorrow should a deadly natural disaster strike the Waterfront on a crowded Saturday night.         
            Of course, it would have to be the perfect sort of calamity such that the Waterfront itself wasn’t damaged beyond repair -I’m envisioning primarily human causalities.  I’d like to avoid damaging any of Georgetown beyond K Street, so that rules out an earthquake or volcano.  Hurricanes won’t cut it either; our lethal mechanism should have no noticeable warning system… I want the bars packed and the unsuspecting douche bags completely unprepared.
            The mega tsunami!!!  Contrary to popular belief, a normal tsunami (like the one that struck Indonesia in 2004) is not one destructive wave; it is a series of larger waves and a rapid rise in ocean level.  However, a mega tsunami is all about one big fucking wave resulting from a massive object forcefully impacting a body of water.  Imagine dropping a semi truck from a building into a swimming pool, or (in my case) dropping an apple into a dinning hall cup filled with chocolate milk that you thought was empty and watching dairy goodness overwhelm your laptop keyboard.
            A mega tsunami works well in the Waterfront scenario; it can’t possibly be large enough to reach past K Street since the Potomac is a relatively narrow river and it will most certainly eliminate all those present.  Our situation still seems unlikely, however, since there is nothing sufficiently huge near the Waterfront to fall into the Potomac – let alone with the required force.  Furthermore, we don’t want a building full of non-Waterfront people involved since our vendetta is not with them.  Indeed, we need an awfully big, inanimate DC object that contains zero people.  We need… the Washington Monument!!
            Why, though, would the Washington Monument fall into the Potomac directly in front of the Waterfront?  It’s quite elementary actually.  The Washington Monument is old and like all old things it needs to be repaired.  Servicing of this magnitude couldn’t possibly happen on site – they will need to MOVE the monument before such an immense job could begin.  Given DC’s roads, driving it out is impossible.  Likewise, flying isn’t an option considering the Monument’s size.  This leaves only one realistic option: float it out of the city using a fleet of giant blimps! 
           The Washington Monument is made of marble, marble is expensive, and as we all know expensive things usually reside in Potomac Maryland.  Well, guess what happens to be in the direct path between Potomac Maryland and the Washington Monument… THE GEORGETOWN WATERFRONT!!! 

  
            It is the US government’s responsibility for maintaining the Monument, therefore the task of floating it to Potomac Maryland will undoubtedly rest in the hands of the lowest incompetent bidder. On a beautiful summer night, I envision the entire scenario playing out like this:
            8PM: Blimpy Moving Service Incorporated (designers of the explosive 1937 Hindenburg) begins securing a series of large industrial Blimps to the Washington Monument. 
            8:30PM: At the Waterfront, the bars slowly fill up with a toxic mixture of Georgetown undergrads and GW law students.  The pompous meter rests uncomfortably at a 6.5.
            9:00PM: LIFT OFF!!!  The Monument is airborne and gaining altitude.  The visual projection given by the Lincoln Reflecting pool seems more accurate than usual since the massive blimps now appears as balls next to this giant phallic symbol.
            9:15PM: Tony and Joe’s is swollen to capacity; from a bird’s eye view it gives the appearance of an undulating cancerous testicle.  The water’s edge is lined with hairy chested men on boats, who (ironically) are all Georgetown undergrad alumni and GW law alumni.   The pompous meter approaches 8.5.
            9:20PM: The Monument has reached its cruising altitude and now creeps slowly toward Potomac Maryland…
            9:45PM:  Reaching a bar to obtain a drink at the Waterfront is now impossible without crowd surfing or bungee jumping from the adjacent buildings.  A slew of young politically irrelevant hotshots repeatedly attempt to impress women by pointing out the location of the Watergate Complex.  The pompous meter has redlined at a perfect 10.0; the atmosphere is now supersaturated with ego juices yet the air smells faintly of bullshit and insecurity.
            10:00PM:  The Washington Monument floats ominously over the Potomac River directly adjacent to the Waterfront bars.  In the lead blimp, the under-qualified pilots engage in the following conversation:
            “I’m fixin’ to reckon to believe that-that there is the Water Gate”, screams the incompetent redneck pilot above the intense whirl of blimp motors.
            “You believe I should drop the building in the water, mate?” responds the equally incompetent Australian copilot, clearly having difficulty deciphering the redneck’s mumble over the noise level.
            “Yes’iree, that there building got Nixon the IM-Peach”, adds the idiot redneck.
            “They are going to fix this building on that beach?” replies the Australian in disbelief.
            “Poor fellar, hope his soul rests in peace”, concludes the redneck.
            “It’ll float to rest on the beach?  Okay… here goes…”
            And, with the largest communication break down in history, the Australian copilot pushes the release lever sending the Washington Monument plummeting towards the Potomac River.
            10:01PM: MEGA TSUNAMI!!!!!!  A cleansing wall of water rushes towards the bars.  Hairy chested boat dwellers are hurled through Sequoia’s upper floor windows; cougars, blinded by their own overdone eye makeup, are unable to swim and drown by the hundreds; several unfortunate souls are overwhelmed by the swiftly moving cheap plastic cups the bars use.  No one survives.
            10:02PM: The water recedes back into the Potomac with scores of dead bodies destined for Davy Jones’ Locker.  Amazingly, no carcasses remain on land and the infrastructures of the surrounding buildings are primarily intact.
            10:10PM:  I arrive.  My initial reaction is shock… but I’m quickly overwhelmed with a sense of calm that I can’t explain.  As I carefully walk down the steps towards the central fountain I find an unopened bottle of Grey Goose.  It’s slightly chilled by the puddle it floats in. 
            Standing at the water’s edge, I sip thoughtfully from the bottle and watch the Washington Monument sink beneath the Potomac’s surface.  I smile.

!!!VICTORY!!!