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Georgetown Does Inherently Georgetown Things

Because of course.

Rob Carr

In a past life I wrote a site called Hoya Suxa. (There's really no point in clicking that link. I've locked up all the nonsense that appeared on the site. Such is the Internet.) I'm not really sure what Hoya Suxa was about, but there were lots of jokes that used Georgetown as a vehicle to create humor around the concepts of elitism and affluence. I thought I was done writing such things two years ago when I locked the fence on the site, and then this happened:

Now, you may believe that situation to be the most Georgetown thing possible: Junior lacrosse players sitting down with Goldman Sachs, presumably plotting how they’ll ally to take down the American economy once again for personal gain. If you believe that, though, you’re wrong. In fact, stopping at Goldman Sachs to check out the firm’s regulated money laundering outfit is only one part of the most Georgetown of Georgetown days. The rest of the day would look like this:

  • After a lunch of gold-encrusted $100 bills at Goldman Sachs, it’s off to tour New York City’s yacht clubs to determine which clubs are admitting Villanova graduates (such clubs are considered second-rate and below the discerning tastes of Jack and Jane Hoya).
  • On a tour of Manhattan, 45 minutes are spent on the West Side Highway, pointing and laughing at New Jersey because if you need to live there instead of Manhattan, your parents didn’t work hard enough.
  • It’s off to The Highline, where Georgetown’s driver is given numerous citations for attempting to maneuver Georgetown’s town car through the park. Walking while enjoying culture is for the Proletariat, of course; the need to accost one’s trust executor in the privacy of a car is a need more than a want.
  • After that, it’s time for dinner, a four-course meal of picking on the less fortunate by shouting derogatory statements toward The Bronx, Brooklyn, and Queens:
  • [Shouting at The Bronx from the Upper East Side] “We refuse to invest in your infrastructure bonds!”
  • ”Good one, Beckett! Burn! When you tell that story at the tennis club during brunch on Sunday you’ll make Charrington laugh so hard he’ll forget to fire his butler!”
  • Finally, it’s time to depart New York for the District of Columbia on Georgetown’s private chariot: The backs of the working man.