forget the fact that i watched an ’80s-themed rendition of richard strauss’s opera, elektra (think: inaccessible german opera where the women wear double-breasted, big-shouldered suits in an industrial post-rave warehouse), and let’s instead focus on my strange bike ride home.

at 10pm, i happened upon a group of 20+ massachusetts state policemen. dressed in kilts and playing bagpipes. on L street.
what’s the only obvious explanation for manly men in skirts marching on a downtown sidewalk late at night? national police week, when DC’s fake irish bars are flooded with the nation’s finest wearing their matching blue outfits and trolling around the city like a pack of freshmen on saturday night.

then, after that confusion, i continued to ride — and stumbled upon so much roadkill rat remains splattered all over the street that i’m seriously concerned about the rodent problem this year. the thought makes me shudder.

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