So now I’m en route back to Houston. The DC Metro is a lovely thing, but you can never account for train delays, so in planning for a slow trip I of course generated a quick one (two trains, no waiting). I figured I’d call Nogators Ground Transportation Coordinator Willis to confirm that the flight was on time, but discovered that my provider of choice does not in fact, um, provide at Washington National. I can’t make a call for love or money. I have, as folks say, “no bars” (and never mind that I’m typing this in a bar of sorts).

No problem, I thought. I’ll just use the Prez Club’s Wifi and send my esteemed colleague and DC host an email asking him to call Erin to confirm on-time departure, etc. Once in the club, though, I counted myself clever for realizing I could text-message Erin from the T-Mobile site (of course, I only realized this after sending the aforementioned mail; I’m thinking of it as a belt-and-suspenders sort of thing).

About this time, the bartender — a charming woman of middle age who used to live in our fair city — asked what I was doing, so I told her. Her response was “I have free weekends and no long distance; do you want to use my phone?”

I did.

Moral: Bartenders can solve all problems, even some whose solutions are not found in the consumption of certain potent potables. Tip accordingly.