This morning’s activities have included my cleaning up after my dog Charlie after she barfed everywhere (happens every pre-move); walking all the way to Adams Morgan to pick up my car having left the key in Petworth, and being chased half a block in Columbia Heights by a ferile cat.
On the other hand, on the lawn outside of Arthur’s Grocery store at 11th, it’s soul food Saturday. What are you making? I asked a woman in a floral apron holding a pair of tongs. She wore an afro wig and very long painted nails. Her man was working the grills. Ribs, fish, collards, mac and cheese, and beans, she said. Are you ready or are you goin’ somewhere? I didn’t want to unfurl the circus of charlie’s begging routine.
A half dozen banquet trays covered in foil aligned folding tables, but the warmers weren’t yet lit. It’s deeelicious, said a middle school girl in glasses. She stood by the bike rack, gnawing on a bone. Though I’m skeptical, I think I’m heading back for lunch.
Girls on the corner each wearing pink. One in roller skates, another with a lolly pop. Her tongue is orange. #summer
I show you.
When you home?
What you up to?
(When did dropping linking/helping verbs become a universal DC thing?)
"I think by the time Mom was in high school, Merle was in prison."
"Hey, remember when our cousin tried to recruit a Federal worker into his militia?"