The moment I pressed the shutter to capture a fairly apocalyptic image of The White House the rain got the better of the paper bag carrying a pristine haul from Georgetown Cupcake. The box inside met the floor with the sad and inevitable flip and thud of buttered toast. Make of that what you will.

Andrea and I had met during my first stop in NYC the previous year and at the last minute I was able to have my flight to Alaska booked out of D.C. in order to squeeze in a stop at the capital between NYC and the last frontier for several rounds of Guinness surrounded by a people and city that on the whole is calmer and less disheveled than its insomniac sibling.