Dear Pregnant Lady on the Metro

You don't know me, but if you did, you'd realize how ironic this situation is.

I'm really determined to prove that there are good people in Washington, D.C., and that we're not all a bunch of fuckheads obsessed with our own importance.

I'm really determined to prove that good things happen here, that selfless people can not just exist, but thrive in this city.

I'm really determined to help change the self-important fucked up culture that people bring to this city - even if it's just through small acts of kindness....offering directions to tourists, volunteering with St. Matt's, high fiving kids at Nationals games. Whatever it takes to have somebody -- ANYBODY -- someday go back to their hometown and say, "You know, there are actually some really friendly people in Washington, D.C.".

So, you can understand just how embarrassed I am not to have offered you my seat on Friday afternoon. I have no idea what I was thinking ; I looked at you, and I saw that you were about as pregnant as one can be, and yet it never once occurred to me that the right thing for me to have done would be to stand up and offer you my seat.

(And, yes, I was sitting in the handicapped seat, to top it all off).

I'm sorry, pregnant lady.

T-O-N

Even more stuff that ruled in D.C. this week

1. DMBQ at the Hoisery - Holy zombie Jesus! Sabbath/Nebula/MC5-style-jam-away metal played by a bunch of Japanese dudes who light shit on fire, scream a lot, play too loud and do things with drum kits that haven't yet occurred to Tommy Lee. This was the hottest, sweatiest, loudest, most awesome show I've been to...ever.

Plus, the Hoisery is damn near the only spot in Northwest that looks exactly the same as it did seven or eight years ago. I don't quite remember the last time I'd seen a tranny hooker taking a leak in the middle of the street, but it had DEFINITELY been too long. Memo to you gentrifying motherfuckers who stole the soul from this city: Fourth and Eye is the final frontier. Go ahead and take it. You went ahead took everything else, didn't you? Besides, I've had my fun. With Japanese metalheads, no less.

2. Lunch at Taquerito Nationales on Capitol Hill - Cheap tacos in Washington? Fresh, sweet onions? Fresh made salsa? Homemade fruit drinks? FRIED MUTHAFUCKIN YUCCA WITH DIPPING SAUCE? Lunch for less than $7?

D.C. has a lot of problems, but this isn't one of them.

3. Bloc Party at Constitution Hall -- One of the joys of being a local to this area is dropping snobby-ass references in conversation specifically to remind people that you were here long before their asses got the idea to move to D.C. (and to subsequently tell the world how much it sucks here and how much more they preferred Pittsburgh or Philly or Jersey or whatever sorry ass Boston suburb it is that they ran away from...).

I'll give you an example....My high school graduation ceremony took place on the stage of Constitution Hall. Once in a while (like, every chance I get), I manage to drop into conversation the phrase, "Oh, DAR --- that's Constitution Hall to you, dear -- oh, yes, my brothers and I graduated on that stage. In fact I even played that stage a few times before."

Right about then I stop talking, because it's just a matter of moments before someone inevitably asks how I got to play that stage. And then I have to explain to them that as a member of Good Counsel High School's symphonic band, I was obligated to play the National Anthem and a 14 minute version of "Pomp and Circumstance" for the graduating class...every year, freshman through junior years.

And right about then people become thoroughly unimpressed with everything about me. Because it doesn't matter if you're doing blow off of Jessica's Biel's ass cheek after the Olsen twins give you head....if you're doing it as a member of the high school band, you're still a fucking dweeb.

Ok, so all of that said, Constitution Hall can be an odd choice to see a rock band. Back in college I saw Keith Richards play there, and the sound guys actually pulled the plug on him (pulled the plug....on Keith Richards....don't EVER let anyone tell you this isn't a union town). I also caught a great little cat nap during Springsteen's utterly forgettable "Ghost of Tom Joad" solo acoustic tour some ten odd years ago.

So, yes, one doesn't often go to Constitution Hall to rock out.

But, frankly, the show was utterly inspired. Great sound, tasteful lights, and two full sets by a very on-their-game band.

Plus, Bloc Party has a sizable (though hardly overwhelming) gay following, it is it always fun watching young, good-looking gay city folk trying to figure out to do when listening to guitar-based rock.

Let's face it, my gay peeps may in fact be the only subset of the Caucasian demographic that knows what to do on a dance floor, but throw in live drums and a stringed instrument or two and they totally get self conscious. Which is kind of fucking awesome in ways that are less sinister than my words may lead you to believe. In point of fact, I think most of us got a little spastic and hyper-rhythmed when we were first officially turned on to punk/indie music.

It's just that it's not every day you get to see elegant boys with fauxhawks, expensive jeans and six pack abs go through the horrifically awkward motions that the rest of us ugly people left behind at age 17.

And that, my friends, is why D.C. ruled this week.