While walking down on of Washington's many unlit alleys, I overhear an argument between two men. The argument is escalating. These guys are really yelling. Finally, one screams, "That's it. I'm gonna put a motherfucking bullet in your ass!" As you can imagine, I accelerated from "leisurely pace" to "quick jog." I like my ass unbulleted.
I was walking through U Street from Woodley Park to meet up with my roommates and other assorted drinking buddies at DC9. Many drinks were imbibed. My friend and I noticed one such female imbiber who was about to pass out at the bar. We got her some water and helped her out. Our goal was to get her a taxi. Her goal was to throw up on the sidewalk. Mission Accomplished. A cop walks by, notices the vomiting girl and decides to intervene. What is the bouncer doing? Nothing. Well, actually, he did say something to the cop: "Talk to these boys. This girl ain't drunk; she was drugged."
It should go without saying that, no, I didn't drug any girls last night. I just really didn't feel like explaining that to a cop at three in the fucking morning. You'd think a bouncer on U Street would have his seen his fair share of girls throwing up their gin and tonics without throwing around comments like that to the fucking police.
So, I had a Saturday of violent threats and attempted date rape accusations! Whee!