Friday’s blustery winds blew the rain under our rickety umbrellas. A friend and I were undeterred in our desire to get some tasty comfort food on a chilly hurricane night. We braved the four blocks up to Etete. What could be more comforting than food made with love by Mama’s hands?

Etete, a tiny Ethiopian restaurant at 1942 Ninth Street, is named for its chef-owner Etete Tesfaye (Etete means Mama). It opened back in October of 2004, and is part of the string of Ethiopian eateries fast remaking Ninth Street into a culinary destination, a development which gave rise to the “Little Ethiopia” controversy last year.

I’ve only had Ethiopian a handful of times, a shocking shame in a city that could very well say it’s the foremost ethnic cuisine here. But I wasn’t too thrilled with my first experiences, back in my Adams Morgan days. Happily, Friday’s night rainy sojourn convinced me otherwise.

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I sit at Murky Coffee today, working on some stats packages, watching the rain fall down on the freshly paved Wilson Boulevard, with Johnny Cash singing mournful songs accompanied by acoustic guitar. In the distance, the trees in the park down the street are beginning to turn just that bit golden that signifies that the winter of my discontent is coming again, with its cold and with its snow.

The tables outside are huddled together beneath the overhang, the usual population absent from the sidewalk cafe. The last refugees of the summer sit beneath the overhang smoking cigarettes and talking over rapidly cooling coffee.

Fall is here. Winter is Coming. There’s no turning back.

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There’s just a week left until nuclear war election day in DC, and the final words from the local papers are in. The Post is endorsing Adrian Fenty, and so did the Examiner, while The Times is endorsing Marie Johns. Linda Cropp has yet to receive a major media endorsement. With just a week to go before the polls open, what are your thoughts on this latest election cycle? Will we see Adrian Fenty or Linda Cropp take the oath of office? Will it be outrunner Marie Johns in a surprise victory? Will Marion Barry win a crazy write-in campaign?

What say you?

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I love this little rack that appears in my office building lobby on rainy days.

Umbrella condoms are so handy when you’re trying to keep your wet umbrella from soaking your office and your self.

What is your solution?

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Photo by DC Metroblogger

This is the S1 Bus scene on a rainy morning – filled to capacity with wet riders.

What you can’t see is the hole in the roof just past the back door where the emergency roof exit is missing its cover, flooding the back seats with pouring rain.

What you can’t hear is the driver still asking folks to move back past the back door, or the angry responses that the bus is full.

What I ask now is why drivers seem to think that they should pack more and more people in the bus when it’s already full? Is there a rule that says a driver must accept new passengers at bus stops? I think not by the number of times full buses speed past the hapless on lower 16th Streets if a stop is not requested.

Then, Miss S1 Bus Driver, stop telling us to move back. Get a spine, tell riders trying to board that the bus is full. Full of wet passengers and wetter rain.

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Three weeks ago, we contacted the Fenty, Cropp and Johns campaigns for responses to ten questions. This week, we’re going to publish the responses that we were given. So far, only Councilman Adrian Fenty (Ward 3) has given us his answers. We’ll publish the rest as we receive them. Without further ado…

MBDC: Why do you want to be the Mayor of DC?

Adrian Fenty: I believe we can be much better. Government, like business, is about follow-through, responsiveness, attention to detail. That’s what I do.

MBDC: What sets you apart from other the other candidates running for Mayor?

AF: I have the energy and vision to transform the District of Columbia into a world-class City.

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This is my cousin and his friend gang signing their youth. Yes they are both under 21 and the Black Cat marked them as such.

Ain’t that cute?

Now if you think he is “dreamy” like the youngin at my work, and you need a housemate, be sure to comment.

Jose is still couch surfing at my place and I want my life back.

This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs

The Post’s Style on the Go section had an entry for what promises to be the “First Annual Queer Women’s Prom” coming up on September 16th. Revelers will build their memories during a three hours cruise (why does that sound familiar?) on the Spirit of Washington out on the Potomac. “Some” proceeds from the $45 fee will go to the HIV-AIDS group The Women’s Collective. No mention on any donations going toward buying calendars so the hosts can figure out that they’re about three months late on prom season. Also odd is the over-21 restriction – I’m all for gay teens being allowed to spend too much money on ugly rented formalwear and cram 10+ into a hideous white limo, but at what point do you declare yourself too old to be hung up on that anymore?

Maybe the majority of attendees will be -way- over 21 and getting the experience they felt excluded from back in the day. If they really want to give them the proper experience they should declare 50% of them unable to rent hotel rooms (because of being under 18) and force them to beg and plead with others to do it for them. All should be forced to get their alcohol by asking others to purchase it for them with about one in four having their supposed benfactor run off with their money. I’m not sure how the promoters can guarantee that any sex any of them have that night be brief, fumbling, and unsatisfying.

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Photo by DC Metroblogger

Looking at the Bomb Lady’s sign today, I noticed that she’s been protesting since 1981. Thats 25 years of ineffectual efforts.

Asking her what day she started, so I could celebrate her physical manifestation of our freedom of speech, I got a curt reply.

No celebrating when the world is still doomed by doomsday bombs.

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I keep a small bottle of advil in my shoulderbag, but on my way up to the security line I worried – even if they’re actually pills, is a label loudly proclaiming LIQUID going to be like waving a red flag under the bull of airport security?

I should have been more worried about properly empting my pockets when I checked my luggage – I forgot to remove my 2 inch pocketknife, which they took from me. I’d been told – wrongly – that the guidelines had changed and a penknife that small was acceptable. Nope. “Scissors up to 4 inches, no knives.”

That makes sense somewhere I’m sure – after all, if I attack someone with my approved scissors or knitting needles we want to make sure I can reach their brain. The cruddy little 1.5″ knife on my knife would seriously scratch someone at the worst.

The positive side of the story is that when I couldn’t get the molecularly-bonded packet of peanuts pretzels open, no matter how hard I struggled, I still had my ibuprofin to dull the tension headache.

Perhaps I’ll re-purchase my knife it when it’s auctioned off.

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Photo by DC Metroblogger

My office building just deployed sand bags across the front entry to the building.

While there is no doubt it is and will be wet, might this be a slight over reaction?

Are they really worried about a wall of water cascading down K Street, or is this the building management’s version of TSA’s liquids ban?

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Photo by DC Metroblogger

Second only to those who have lost their mind and want to drive there, these fools are taking the bus to NYC today.

A flood emergency Friday before Labor Day Weekend.

At least on the bus you can bring on a bottle of water, or better for today a six pack and a flask.

With a parking lot I-95 ahead, they’ll need it today.

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Some new friends have joined the blogosphere- today is the launch of Happy Fun Time Friend Service, a blog written by people who do more cool stuff around DC than average and who want to show you have to have as much fun as they do.

Also, they’re tired of listening to people complain about how hard it is to go out and meet people.

Anyway, swing by, say hello, add them to your RSS reader.

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In what can only be described as a bizarre publicity stunt intended to appeal to geeks, former Virginia governor Mark Warner held a townhall-style event online, in Second Life.

HA: Tell us about your background as a high-tech entrepreneur, sir, and how it relates to your efforts now, with Forward Together, and your coming to Second Life.

MW: Clearly, how people communicate, what type of communities they form, is changing real time. At Forward Together, we want to use every tool — including virtual tools! — to communicate some of our ideas about how we get our country back on the right track.

Yeah, I know, undeclared presidential candidate and obscure gaming system do not an innovation make, but the screenshots are pretty entertaining and worth checking out.

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This is the line at WMATA Metro Center sales office right now. A dozen deep as the noon rush looks to buy cards and passes.

How is this for a customer pleasing move: open more teller windows during the lunch rush.

Having your automated Smartcard machine working would not hurt either.

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Hoping to block new regulations in effect today, three strip clubs in Prince George’s County have sued to get the regulations set aside in Federal Court. The new regulations required a stage of 18″ and a 6′ gap between the dancers and the patrons of such an establishment, and of course I could see how this would affect dancers and their tips and profits.

Just think, guys, it could be much much much worse. Just check out this article from Metblogs Lahore. They’re banning “vulgar dances” there, the definition of which might just be showing off their calves and maybe even their arms.

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Someone down at the DDOT didn’t get the memo. It’s no longer the MCI Center. It’s now the Chinatown Killer. Woops, I mean the suburban Verizon Center.

Wait; doesn’t this sign give you a little hope? Hope that maybe the conglomerate that just bought rights to assault you with an ad every time a place is mentioned might be wasting its money?

That and old-skol street cred. Anyone still remember what was there before it was a basketball stadium?

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Tom and I are partial-season ticket holders for the Nationals. Last night’s game against the Phillies is one of the games in our package, but Tom was unable to go. A friend of mine had planned to go with me, but at the last minute, we decided that we didn’t feel like sitting out in the rain all night. A coworker of mine, Tony, said that he and his roommate Trey would like to go and brave the rain, so gave them our tickets, happy that they weren’t going to waste. We have excellent seats, after all.

Trey arrived at our office shortly before it was time to leave, and after some banter about the Virginia Tech hat he was wearing, I lent him my Nats cap for the game. The boys happily set out for the game while my friend and I headed to Luna in Shirlington for some comfort food.

When I arrived at the office this morning, as I passed Tony’s desk, he stopped me to tell me a story.

Tony had agreed to take the tickets and go to the game with Trey knowing that Trey didn’t really have any money to buy baseball tickets, but had told Trey he’d pay for them. The face value of the tickets was a little higher than Tony would ordinarily pay for on the spur of the moment, and even though I didn’t really expect to be paid for them, the guys still felt like they ought to do something.

When they got to the seats at the park, Trey said, “I know! I’ll catch a foul ball for Tiff!”

Right Trey, that’s exactly what you’re going to do. Right.

This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs Continue reading →

The Three Martini Lunch. A DC Tradition for so many years. It represents all that is smoky backroom Washington: grizzled old fat men in suits that cost as much as used cars, dirty martinis that are strong enough to fill molotov cocktails, steaks the size of your head.

Is the era of the Three Martini Lunch gone by us? Are there no more lunches at Signatures on Penn Ave that take the equivalent of a night at the Opera and cost as much as the GDP of a small African nation? Modern Drunkard Magazine encourages us to revive the lost art of the martini lunch, in order to save not just our productivity, but our very mortal souls:

Institutionalization of the martini lunch would bring vast changes. Disgruntled, shotgun-wielding lunatics in dress-shirts mowing down their supervisors and co-workers would fade into history. Bickering, shouting, and disasters like disciplinary probation would all but disappear.

I couldn’t agree more. Bartender? Pour me a martini to go with that sandwich.

This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs

Photo by DC Metroblogger

How’s that for a sight never seen before: A DC Hack Inspector giving a taxi driver a ticket.

Yeah, I didn’t know we had hack inspectors either, definitely not by the way DC taxi drivers try to cheat us every damn trip or gouge the tourists mercilessly. But we do.

Six even, apparently. I talked with D.C. Walters, Hack Inspector, for a good 30 minutes on his job and the city’s taxi system. Here’s a few tips I learned:

1. If you think you’ve been cheated, and its 9-5 M-F, call the Taxi Commission Hotline – they’ll send a hack inspector to investigate.
2. If you’re think the ride is too much other times, cal the cops. They’ll care, I’m sure.
3. There are supposed to be a dozen hack inspectors, but due to past budget cuts, there are only six now.
4. The Taxi Cab Commission is supposed to increase the number of hack inspectors to 16.. soon
5. DC hack inspectors have no comment on the zone system, no matter how hard you try to get them to come out for or against it.
6. Taxis can get tickets from hack inspectors for sitting at a designated taxi stand – if its rush hour and there are no standing/no parking signs

Oh, just in case you’re in need, Inspector Walters can be reached on 202.210.7465 during normal business hours.

This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs