On a recent visit to the National Gallery of Art, I made a pit stop at the mezzanine bathroom. Only two people stood ahead of me in line, but I still had a long wait: there were just two bathrooms and both were occupied. By the time I finished, the other bathroom was still occupied. My fellow waiters confirmed that no one had come in or out for a long time, at least fifteen minutes. I knocked on the door and got a grunt in response. A man made some noise about being fine, but his slurred sing-song voice sounded far from “OK” and more like really high or really sick. I was concerned enough to mention the matter to a guard, who told me checking on sick folks in the bathroom was “not in my job description.” I mentioned it to another member of the museum staff, who, horrified, sent someone to check in on the situation right away. I never noticed EMTs running through the galleries, so I was probably just being a worry-wort. But still. The museum guards must be pretty disgruntled to refuse to see if the back up in the bathroom line is caused by a dying grandpa.

The New York Times spends 60 hours with Spore, the new and much hyped video game from the creator of SimCity, and declares that while the product is a “scintillating, empowering toy,” it is not a great game.

The Prince George’s County sheriff’s office has released a report showing, they say, that officers were justified in shooting to death two dogs when they raided the home of the Berwyn Heights Mayor Cheye Calvo (who was not the intentional recipient of the package of drugs FedExed to his home). Calvo doesn’t buy it. For one, he says the sheriff’s office never asked him for his account of what happened.

Michael Moore will release his next movie, “Slacker Uprising,” as a free download and then send it to the theaters. It’s been almost 20 years since “Roger and Me”, so I guess he wanted to throw a bone to his fans.

Slate considers Palin’s chances in her first press conference.

Wanted to go camping this weekend? Fat chance.

I’m not quite sure I like the resurgence of Africa-themed patterns in hipsterwear.

Chris Rockwell, editor of the new blog, Sansconnie: DC on Schoolnights, says his site offers the city’s only unbiased nightlife agenda. “Our authors are only the truly depraved and will exploit a bar, restaurant, golf course etc. to the limits of it’s decency and legality,” he wrote in an email. Indeed! Rockwell himself, apparently on a date, dutifully reported on the prospects of picking up chicks at a gay bar. The site is looking for contributors: “We are looking for new contributors who can exhibit depraved judgment and a rapist wit. If you’ve got a murderboner then you’re perfect.” Don’t hold back!

Everyone who chooses to become a journalist has to wonder from time to time whether they ought to have chosen a more lucrative career, or at least one with better prospects for stability. For many of us, this is one of those times. On top of that, like many journalists, I regard the rest of the working world as something of a mystery. What do all those people in offices do all day, other than not return my calls for comment?

So … I have always liked reading help wanted ads. Not that I’m looking, or anything, but I recently pulled up the classifieds at New York Social Diary, a blog about the New York elite, which occasionally deigns to feature a party or celebrity interview from lowly DC. I expected to find requests for personal assistants or gardening coaches. Instead, I found a bunch of nannies looking for work. Could it be that the hard times have forced wealthy house wives to take their own children to the park? Since nannying for the rich is one career other than journalism I have experience in, I’m glad that field looks pinched as well. I would want the temptation.

The UK Guardian has sent an artist to sketch his observations of the American political conventions. With the slow going in Minnesota, he’s been left to contemplate the prairie, Wall Drug and the Badlands. And farmers’ asses.

Photo: Steve Bell

Just Asking: Which local journo cornered Sarah Silverman in Denver and asked if she wanted a job in an Obama administration, then asked “what position” (heh, heh)? The funny lady replied with two playful “love slaps” on the reporter’s cheek.

Yes, Obama delivered a great speech, direct, passionate, not at all hifalutin or snobby. But the biographical video that came first was even more amazing. It felt as earnest as the best American documentary–and it was made by “An Inconvenient Truth” director Davis Guggenheim–but at base it was artful propaganda. I could barely tell.

We’re all waiting for McCain to choose his pardner. It won’t be Minnesota Gov. Tim Pawlenty.

As PJ reported yesterday, the Million DJ March comes to DC this weekend.

Police say Bloods and Crips are making their way into local crime. I’ve heard this for some time and I’m not sure it’s as scary as they say. Are these just expats working under their old flags or, as police suggest, a new franchise with ties to larger organizations? I don’t think police have that much info.

From the listserves: The kids collecting money for the Boys & Girls Club at the Tenleytown Metro don’t have any connection to the youth organization. Donate only if you support video games and 40 ounces for the young entrepreneurs.

Mad Magazine is squeezing a few more giggles, and dollars, from eight years with Bush.

Damien Ober, the Libertarian challenger to D.C.’s shadow senator, Paul Strauss, has turned in his petitions, hopefully with the 3,000 legit names he needs to get on the ballot. He’ll find out if he made it Sept. 8. Ober says he learned a lot about the political process through the arduous work of gathering signatures. He learned how to explain his platform to one voter while scanning the crowd for his next prospect, although on one occasion, an impatient signatory threw the clipboard back in Ober’s face. While Ober understands that it shouldn’t be too easy to get on the ballot, he still thinks it’s harder than it should be. “It’s a one-party town,” he says, “And the people in charge make the rules.” Here’s his newest video:

The Maryland Renaissance Festival. I’ve never been to one. Growing up in Oregon, I just couldn’t stomach all the earnest ladies in waiting and jousting knights. But I’m gonna brave Maryland’s version. Hopefully this busty Valkyrie will be back.

I was not as wise as Stephanie, who blogs about playing dress-up and getting dumped at Fashion Robot. After getting the brush off — at orientation, no less — she concludes: “I am officially becoming a lesbian or something. All dudes are too fucking girly.” Well put.

Stephanie recently discovered the sub-cultural history of Doc Martens, which I really thought had gone out of style forever. I’m pretty sure mine got incinerated.

People are lining up for free Chop’t salads at the chain’s new location at Metro Center. My advice: tell them to stop chopping half way through. Otherwise you end up with lettuce pudding. Yuck.

SaraH caught this pre-lunch hour shot of the line:

Borderstan, an in-between hood described here, is inching toward legitimacy here, with its own website.

Everyone is gushing about the growing popularity of scooters. They get 65+ miles per gallon and are cheap to maintain and insure. Dealerships are selling out of popular models and buyers are acting like iPhone acolytes, making goofy plays to get what they want. My mechanic at Vespa Washington told me one guy recently got offered $6,000 cash for his Vespa by some dude on K Street. The dealership accepted a trade in of a 1965 Corvette (or was it a Mustang?) for a 50 cc Vespa.

There is one big downside, though, especially for us mishap-prone scooter owners: the wait for service is way longer than it was when the only scooter riders were mods and delivery men. If you want to schedule a tune-up at Vespa Washington, you’ll have to wait more than a month. In my case, I had to wait nearly a month for the shop to fix my ride after thieves tried to steal it and only succeeded in breaking the fork. It’s not as easy as just hiring more mechanics. There’s a shortage of qualified mechanics who know how to work on scooters. I wonder if they make more than journalists? Hmmmm.

From the Post, Metro might give us shorties something to hold onto.

The Christian Science Monitor reports that Cindy McCain sorta kinda made up that whole Mother Teresa story.

Meanwhile, the Christian Scientists are still suing D.C. to save their Brutalist building downtown. D.C. likes Brutal buildings.

Heads up bikers: police are ticketing errant cyclists on New Hampshire Avenue, via Greater Greater Washington.

Slasher claymation is scary in a friendly way.

W magazine has a story out about the party-line segregation of D.C. nightlife. The commenters already have their fangs out, but I just had one quibble: since when are all liberals referred to as hipsters? The author contends that “in D.C. the term is synonymous with non-Republicans, not artsy types in tight pants and Converse sneakers.” Maybe that’s what some guy in pink pants said … but really? I know a lot of hipster-hating, khaki-wearing liberals.