Renegades at the zoo

I was in D.C. over the weekend, so Liza and I decided to go to the zoo. By the time we finally stumbled out of bed, ate breakfast, drank a sufficient amount of coffee, got dressed and got to the zoo, it was 3:40 p.m.

Normally that wouldn't be a problem because the zoo is open until 6 p.m. But apparently it closes at 4 p.m. three days a year for "Boo at the Zoo," a Halloween thing for kids.

So there was a lady stationed at the zoo entrance to scare everyone from coming in. I guess technically, they couldn't prohibit entrance before closing, but they really tried to discourage it. She made us stop and stand there for three minutes (like, 15 percent of our available time there), while she amassed a large enough group to yell at that they were closing in 10 minutes (a lie -- they weren't closing for 15 minutes).

But Liza and I wanted to see big cats, so we went in.

It occurred to us pretty quickly that enforcing a closing time for some visitors while allowing "Boo at the Zoo" people to stay was going to be just about impossible, so we decided to try our luck and walk all the way to the far end of the zoo, where the lions and tigers live.

Along the way, zoo employees in pickup trucks barreled down the main walkway with bullhorns and yelled for everyone to leave. Again, this was difficult to enforce because parking lots are located at each end, so the Bullhorn People didn't know who was coming and who was going.

But Liza and I are not slick.

While everyone else walked naturally, we darted around, panic-stricken, and ducked behind trash cans/trees/walls whenever we thought we saw a zoo employee.

In the end, we got completely lost and wanted someone with a bullhorn to find us and kick us out -- we had already seen a lion and tiger and we figured the Bullhorn Person would give us a ride to the exit. That's when we realized they couldn't care less. We passed at least 10 zoo employees after almost everyone else had left, and they barely even looked at us. One tried to give us directions ("go straight, walk through the farm, and make a left at the brick road").

Turns out, the only one who cared was the lady at the entrance.

In other news, I have decided that Mattie is part fishing cat.