Yesterday was phenomenal, at least the first half. I hope you all had a delightful President’s Day. We took the day off here, we’re sorry if you had to work and we left you with nothing to read. Such is the way. We’ll try to make up for it today.

Thousands of Gallons of Diesel into the Potomac

Way to go, fuel truck driver guy. You backed into a dumpster and busted your tank, causing thousands of gallons of diesel to head straight for the river. Nice work, jackass. As if those guys at Mirant didn’t have enough problems with the locals, you have to go be a moron and make their lives worse. Well played.

DC to crack down on meter feeders

If you park downtown and feed your meter every two hours, the police are coming for you because you’re fucking up parking near retailers downtown. Now, frankly, I’ve not had a problem lately getting a space on the street in the middle of downtown, but I welcome anything that’ll make it easier. This, along with the enforcement of Logan Circle parking is wonderful.

Shoot a Kid, Get Six Months Paid Vacation

Two DC Police Officers involved in the September shooting of DeOnte Rawlings are still on paid leave five months after the shooting. Five months vacation? Really? is that necessary? That seems gratuitous to me, or at least put them at a desk, or something.

Need a mattress for your flophouse? Check this one out:

This thing has had some serious use. It is fourteen years old, stained from sweat from my years in the South, and has been moved more times and to more states than I want to remember. It looks like it belongs in a flophouse or shooting gallery.

The good news is that it is super comfortable, has been well loved and cared for, has never been spilled on and has never been made to lie directly on the floor until today, when I got a new bed and broke up my half-busted futon frame for firewood.

The best news: It’s free. I am in Arlington and will help you get it in your vehicle.

Help someone out and profit at the same time!

image courtesy of the
Shakespeare Theater Company

As Jenn mentioned, she and I got to go see the Shakespeare Theater’s production of Edward II on Friday evening. If you’re looking for a review in short: MAN do you have the wrong writer!

Uh.. I mean, if you’re looking for a review in short, I recommend it. The show is free of the scenery-chewing that afflicts some other viewing options, the characters are realized well enough for you to care about them, and the chemistry and interaction between the people on stage is believable and enjoyable. Somewhat unfortunately, while this is a far superior show to Tamburlaine, it doesn’t allow you to really enjoy the space of the new Harman theater as much. There’s nothing wrong with the layout or set but it doesn’t have the “oh wow” factor that the much more open set does in Tamburlaine.

If you’re looking for a longer review… well, try below the fold here.
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Another parking meter letter, this time on Woodmont Street in Bethesda:

Dear Kind Parking Enforcement Officer:

Came for lunch with my attorney, who assured me this ‘IOU’ was sufficient because I do not carry coins. I just can’t be bothered with them; they rattle too much in my pockets and throw off my game. How’s a guy supposed to get some action when he’s got coins rattling so close to his junk? Anyway, IOU $2 for overpriced parking for my overpriced lunch.

Yours Truly,
Don Whiteside^*

Have you seen any love notes, IOU letters or broken meter complaints? Are you opportunistic enough to watch for them and take that spot, then claim you were the note writer?

^*Not really Don Whiteside, who is an honest, law-abiding fellow, not a scofflaw like the Johnny Nogood who left the note.

Sanford and Son, who apparently live across the street from me, have a new development going on. Check out the first post I did about the dumpster and the associated picture. Now look at the picture I took today. Notice something different?

Yep, that old office chair is gone. It sat through at least two rains and likely is full of every type of mildew spore you can think of. Now it’s gone. Who would take such a thing? Is my neighbor or his son Lamont lounging on it even as I type this? I hate to think that, but what else could have happened to it?

Did you take it? Did you? Maybe it was Max who took it, when he dropped off his busted AC unit.

Tuesday afternoon I went to play tennis with my friend who, sadly, lives in suburban Virginia. His neighborhood has tennis courts but we decided to play on some courts a few neighborhoods down Rt. 7 so I’d have a shorter trip from DC. I do not want to give the name away, but this is a neighborhood I’ve had friends in for over 20 years and that has courts that are seldom used and would certainly be empty on a hot weekday afternoon.

On the drive I get a call from my friend, telling me that he had just been kicked out by the homeowners association president. “Well, stay there,” I say, “Let me come talk to him and ask if we can play as guests of my friends who live there.”

My friend said, “I’m just leaving. He’s a complete ***hole and I don’t want to deal with him anymore.”

I should have been smart and taken that as a warning to stay away, but living in the city has made me soft and forgetful that dealing with a homeowners association board member is in no way like dealing with a regular human.
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Photo by DC Metroblogger

Now that the cold winter snows and ice have left, and the salt trucks are done for the season, a new winter nemesis has appeared. The DC Pothole.

You know the ones I am talking about. Big ones you whole disappears into, or dangerous, tire-popping potholes like this one at 15th and I Streets NW. Look at that metal spike just waiting for a errant tire. Lord help a speeding scooterist.

And yes, these potholes are different from man-made potholes, left by pothole making crews that lurk for months, and months, becoming pothole emergencies that only one day get filled.

These are potholes made by nature’s battle against man on every street in DC and they are mean and nasty. And I’ve already noted that this pothole has busted Mayor Fenty’s crazy claim of:

For example, we’ve cut the amount of time it takes to fill a pothole from 72 to 48 hours, and we’re working to get that down to 24 hours.

A week later, this beast is still eating cars. Drive carefully my friends and ignore politician promises, or you will be walking soon enough.

I was in the right mood for a show because I had just seen The Plague Dogs, the animated film based on the book by Richard Adams (writer of Watership Down). It was the most upsetting movie I’ve ever seen. Some films leave you feeling down about what happened in them, this one leaves you down about life. I recommend it!

I did my pre-concert ritual: I made sure the ticket was in the car. I took off my good watch and put on my cheap one and, because I’ve had a fear of pickpockets since I was 18 and saw a kid darting through a crowd in Amsterdam surreptitiously sticking his little hand into tourist pockets, I moved my bacon wallet from my back pocket to my jacket’s inside pocket.

I hate parking at The Black Cat. Looking for a space makes me resent how nice the neighborhood has become. Ten years ago when half the buildings around there were boarded up you could find a space right away, the only drawback being you might get mugged when you did.
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Melanie Boyer by Patrick King

Are you still hot and bothered from the first Melanie Boyer interview? Did you agree with the Washington City Paper’s About Last Night.. columnist’s quote:

I write about sex, but I also write about love, because I would be doing the human race a great disservice if all I did was write about sex and called that the extent of love.

Or better yet, did you catch the twist that she left for the Peace Corps after saying “no” to a marriage proposal? While she wins kudos in my book for being that commitment adverse, she’ll win points in your book with part two of the Melanie Boyer interview.

In this steamy follow-up, we’ll start before the jump with this warm-up question:

Wayan: How many men hit on you even more after they find out your are a dating/sex columnist? How many shy away. Percentages are fine, absolute numbers better.

Melanie: My educated guess is that 70 percent run for their lives and 30 percent kick it into hyper-drive. The latter are usually voyeurs to some degree, and are begging to see their name in an entry. The former usually don’t stick around long enough to give me their names, let alone their reasons for running.

Now that’s interesting! So how has writing for the City Paper impacted dating life?

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Recently, “a friend” got busted for 41 in a 25 on MacArthur Blvd NW in his little red convertible.

I am being fined $100 or $200 for this, depending on when I decide to pay. I am considering mounting a defense based on the inability to determine the driver of the vehicle. I never though the fogged rear window would be a blessing.

Do you know af any resources regarding beating the DC traffic camera system?

Does anybody know how to get out of a camera ticket or is it an impossible dream?