Are you from Bulgaria?

We ventured out last weekend to a few neighborhood places, and then took a 45-minute subway ride across town to go elsewhere (we could have taken a cab for $3 a person and 15 minutes max in a car, but the Metro is apparently cheaper. It's not that much cheaper, in the grand scheme of things.)

The Metro does, however, have any number of crazies riding. On our way to Dupont Circle, a guy sat down in front of my roommate and I and asked where we were going. It went a little something like this:
Sketchballer: Yo, ladies, where you going?
pause
Sketchballer: You going to Adams Morgan
Us: Uhhh...(We weren't actually going to Adams Morgan) Sure
Sketchballer: Where you live at
My quick-thinking roommate Jessica: Oh, over near the White House
(For the record, there aren't really any residential areas near the White House)

And then, we got off the train.

On the way home, this other gentleman sat down in a seat across from us. We could of fried an egg with all the grease in his hair. He didn't really say much of anything, but then glanced over at Jessica and says, "Are you from Bulgaria?"

The answer is, no she's not from Bulgaria, nor did this attempt at a pick-up line work. Here's hoping the next person we meet on the Metro has practiced his pick-up lines. And thank god we have a new stock answer for where we live. There's no need to tell strangers the truth.