It was easy. I got in the cab, and I told it to take me a few blocks to the metro stop. There, I put on a hoody type of thing Aisha has not seen me in in at least two years. I got on the train, and walked to the hotel. Embassy Row, not a place we would see anybody we know.
I checked in, under the name Megan had chosen. They did ask for ID, and a contact number (I gave them the Dallas number), and did not even blink at the different names, or that I asked them to hold all calls. I am sure this happens all the time. About two hours later, my wife, Arista, came in, sporting a new pair of sunglasses and a black wig. She brought a lot of beer in her bag, and some Subway in a shopping bag.
They have robes here, which I thought we might availourselves to during the Notre Dame game. Megan was fine in hers. Mine was way too small.
Other than that, so far, so good.