After killing my third fish, my concern grew. What is wrong with me? Maybe I shouldn't buy anymore fish.
So, instead of going to Petco, I went downtown to the National Aquarium. The fish there are behind sturdy plexiglass and I was pretty sure I wouldn't be able to kill them.
I wandered around the Smithsonians for a bit looking for the aquarium before I finally chacha'd it and was directed to the basement of the National Commerce building. Yes, the National Aquarium is in the basement of the National Commerce building. Go figure.
It's a fairly depressing display. It's about the size and shape of a college classroom. Dark, and rather dreary.
Despite the dismal appearance, I payed the $7.00 entrance fee and headed straight towards the tank with the pacific sea turtle. I like turtles.
There was a couple in front of the tank taking pictures of the turtle, who was happily swimming around the tank. They were oohing and ahhing and holding their 2-month-old baby up to the glass to see it. They took pictures with their cell phones and with two cameras --all while capturing it all on a camcorder.
I waited patiently.
I wanted to see the turtle.
I gave up waiting patiently after 20 minutes.
I started circling closer and closer to the tank.
I stood right next to them.
Right behind them.
Tried to stand in front of them.
It didn't work. They stayed there another 20 minutes.
When they finally left, I rushed over to the tank only to find the turtle fast asleep under a rock.
Just my luck.
I'm never going back there again.