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.
Pink Wig on Georgia
I had seen them blocks away, from the moment I left my condo. It was hard not to. The pink wig waving and jostling with every jerk and hitch of their body could be seen from space, sans telescope. They were loud without me being able to hear them. It didn’t matter what they said or what they were doing. I knew I would need to be on the lookout for what Pink Wig was up to. This is why attention is essential. You catch unexpected things. They disrupt the natural pattern and require adjustment, acknowledgment, and awareness.