Lately I have not been feeling the love for Mount Vernon. Cat and Mouse, I Know What You’re Up To And I’m Watching You, and No Can Do Mr. Soft-Touch I Can’t Help You are no longer the exciting games for my evening walk home that they once were. Heroin Heroin everywhere. I’ve always known, I just never seemed to care before, and watching them disappear to prison/rehab/oblivion is just starting to get so old. Buggety, Buggety, BUG. Lesions here, lesions there, lesions every-fucking-where. Shake my hand, be my friend, just don’t outnumber me ten to one. The architecture just doesn’t justify residence anymore.

For one brief five minute interval that changed for me last week. Walking on Chase towards Calvert, I heard really loud bang of some sort in front 7-11. What caused the noise I’m not exactly sure, but I saw a man race out the front door and dart across the oncoming traffic, closely followed by two transvestite prostitutes wearing six inch hoochie heels. One of the two fell flat on her face in the middle of the street, cars screeching to a halt within a couple of feet of her.

Completely unfazed, she jumped up and resumed chase right in the middle of the street between the lanes of traffic. She and her companion were flying and quickly gaining on him. Remember the female assassin robot in Terminator III? Well, imagine that with broader shoulders, hot skirts and six inch heels.

Within half a block they had cornered him by a parked car and were wailing on his face in a barrage of fists and purses. After taking about fifteen hits, the guy was able to wiggle out from the parked car and ran another half a block before the Devitas caught up with him, AGAIN cornering him.

For me, it was like learning there was a Santa Claus after all.

*Potential Mount Anonymous Coworker update*

So far, unmaterialized.