A Humorous Happy Hour Scene in DC

It was a slow summer Friday night in Adams Morgan. Washington, DC was in that part of August nestled between when the interns left, Congress was on recess, and the beginning of the fall semester. Moisture from the previous night’s storm under a full moon hung around like an unwanted stray dog.

Folks who ventured out were either looking for something 18th Street couldn’t guarantee or were obliged to do so. They marched on through the humidity, swatting away the mosquitos, sweat glistening on their brows and starting to show along their butt cracks.