Near the top of my long list of "things I've done in DC but see no reason to do twice" is the annual High Heel Race in Dupont. Don't get me wrong, it's fun, and funny, and chock-full of G-A-Y. Good times had by all.
Basically, a bunch of dudes dressed like drag queens race down 17th Street wearing heels. The outfits and characters are as entertaining as the anticipation of seeing someone eat asphalt. I'd recommend going except the race was held last night, and if you missed it, you'll have to wait until next October to catch it again. Loser.
The only reason why I wouldn't go a second time is because of the crowd. The race doesn't start until 9pm, but spectators start lining up along the sidewalk by 6pm. I don't like crowds in the first place. But I especially don't like crowds full of stupid drunk girls. And let me tell you, the High Heel Race attracts a ton of stupid drunk chicks. I'm not talking the Shouts "Wooooo!" at Everything drunk girl. They're okay. I'm talkin' Stumbles Everywhere and Starts Fights with Grown Men drunk girl.
The DC night scene is filled to the brim with this particular sub-species of drunk girl. And they always travel in packs of four or five. They're pretty looking, but its the kind of pretty that when she speaks you know instantly that personality plays no role in her boyfriend's decision to date her.
Case in point. When I went everyone was on the sidewalk smooshed together, shoulder to shoulder, ass to crotch. You couldn't sneeze without toppling the people around you. But here comes drunk girl and her skunked friends... forcing their way from the back of the line to the sidewalk front. She held up to her face a small camcorder, and slurred as loud as she could, "Moooooove! We need to seeeeee! I'm a cameraman for PBS!!!"
Drunk Girl clearly wasn't with the Public Broadcasting Service. But for reasons I don't fully understand, people stood aside and let her through anyway. It worked until she came up behind the rather tall and large feller standing right behind me who wasn't having any of it.
He refused to budge. Words were exchanged. She clocked him over the head with the camcorder (ouch!). Fists started flying. He grabbed her by the hair and yanked out a patch (double ouch!). Her friends went ballistic.
This would have been fun to watch, except me, my friends, and the people around me had to absorb the force of these dumbasses thrashing about. Being the nearest guy, I stepped in between the two, grabbed dude by the arm and pulled him back with the help of his buddy. Yay me. I mean, the girl was a total bitch but still. Dude calmed down right away, but Drunk Girl, classy as ever, regained her composure and she and her friends scurried away like cockroaches after dropping a few more f-bombs.
Alas, this wouldn't be the last time yours truly saves Drunk Girl despite her best efforts to get herself killed. But that's a story for another day.