Dupont Circle public-safety activist Rob Halligan has had his share of run-ins with Nathan Johnson, an inveterate thief who's pilfered clothes, food, and trinkets from many an automobile in Northwest over the past five years. So when Halligan spotted Johnson yet again in the company of police officers this past fall, after the 46-year-old was nabbed for allegedly breaking into someone else's car, Halligan started casually kicking around the idea of pushing for a “Nathan Johnson Law” that would be designed to punish the worst of the city's recidivists ("Nerves of Steel,” 11/24/06). Although most eponymous statutes serve to memorialize rather than shame their honorees (think: Megan's Law), Halligan's talk wasn't hyperbole. On Dec. 11, he visited the John A. Wilson Building to grab the ears of various D.C. councilmembers, among them Phil Mendelson, chair of the judiciary committee, to discuss the possibility of what Halligan describes as a “three strikes, you're out or 10 strikes, you're out” kind of criminal-justice bill. During their 15-minute chat, says Halligan, Mendelson agreed to investigate whether a “Nathan Johnson Law” would be necessary and feasible. “I would be willing to look at legislative proposals,” says the councilmember. As for the statute name, Halligan says he likes the working title but isn't wedded to it. “That would be fine, but I really don't care,” he says. “I think it rings nicely, but we can call it the Mendelson Law if that will get it passed.”

D.C. cops are in for some changes come 2007. And they won't just be answering to a new chief, Cathy Lanier. Many of the city's officers will also be answering to new badge numbers, and they're not all thrilled about it.

Back in the fall of 2005, now-outgoing Chief Charles H. Ramsey ordered that the department bring order and security to its badge-numbering system. Whereas badge numbers have traditionally been issued more or less at random, Ramsey wanted to see a system in which numbers ascended according to rank. In other words, under the new system, the chief wears Badge No. 1, and the rest follow, down through commanders and lieutenants and crossing guards.

“It's a pyramid concept,” explains Edward Hamilton, who is director of support services and was charged with developing the new badge system. “One of the concerns [under the old system] was that badge numbering didn't have any rhyme or reason.…Now, if I saw a badge and it had number 8601 on it, I automatically know that's a crossing guard, because those start with 8600.”

The new badges are more difficult to forge, Hamilton says, and they come with serial tracking numbers on the back. In the past, if a badge turned up “you couldn't tell who had lost that badge” because it wasn't serialized, says Hamilton. “Even if you retire, that number is still alive. Without having [serial numbers], you can't tell if it's a knockoff or a legitimate badge or who had it.”

Ranked officials have been getting their badges replaced over the course of the past year. General officers just recently received instructions to head down to the department's equipment-and-supplies office to get their new shields. Their old badges will be incinerated.

D.C. police union head Kristopher Baumann says he's been fielding complaints from officers ever since news of the badge switcheroo hit the departmentwide teletype on Dec. 6. The gist of their gripe: We don't need no stinkin’ new badges.

“We're spending thousands of dollars of taxpayer money?to institute a new badge system where we didn't need to,” says Baumann. “That money could be for more patrol cars or more police officers.” He adds, “Officers have a sentimental attachment to badge numbers. I thought for morale you'd want to instill pride and a sense of continuity in officers.”

A number of officers speaking on condition of anonymity tell City Desk that they find the change in systems to be pointless. Furthermore, some of their co-workers are peeved about losing badge numbers they've identified with for years.

“Not to sound corny, [but] it's something that has history to it,” says one cop. “When you're an officer you take great pride in the number. Maybe it was a family member's badge.…Some of them have a lot of significance to them. Some guys have had badges for 23 years.” The same cop says some officers who received recycled badge numbers have gone so far as to research the officers who wore their numbers before them. “Maybe it was someone who retired or passed away, you might have gotten theirs.”

But there's more than just a romantic attachment. Cops commonly engrave their badge numbers on jewelry for themselves and family, and some go a step further. “I'm sure there are officers with their badge numbers [on license plates],” says Baumann. “And I'm sure there are officers with tattoos.”

Hamilton says he and officials were fully aware of the “obvious emotional attachments” at play. So while the department can't do much for officers whose body ink turns obsolete overnight, Hamilton says the badge company can partially accommodate the clingiest of the city's officers. “If you had that badge number for 20 years and want to keep a symbol of it, you can order the badge as a replica,” he explains.

Such a commemorative shield, Hamilton says, will even come in Lucite.

Every Tuesday and Thursday, we run down what's going on in local Internet discussion groups.

MPD-1D
Have the birds near Gallaudet University looked especially dirty lately? John explains: “I have not had a chance to call in a report but last night in the 700 Block of L Street NE...an individual entered our gate and stole a birdbath. When I looked out the window he was running down L Street and turning right on 7th heading toward Florida Avenue. He was pushing a grocery cart.”

WardOneDC
As U Streeters all but demand that Trader Joe's come to the ’hood and serve them (subject: “FWD: Trader Joe's: They Just Aren't Getting It!!”), Jamietre tells chatters they shouldn't blame TJ for wanting to take a pass on the neighborhood: “I have followed this discourse with a little bit of amusement. It seems that business can never win with the residents of Ward One. The new Giant suffered a picket line on it's first day for the atrocious crime of having a pickup and dropoff area. Target was controversial because people feel it will bring too much traffic to the area among other reasons. Now, I see the same sort of venom and tactics used against TJ's…except it's because they DON'T want to open here! Hmm, I wonder why anyone might think twice about opening a store in this can of worms that is Columbia Heights.”

MPD-7D
Chatters revolt against police officers and parking attendants who ticket car owners for temp-tag-related infractions. “You would think an officer?in this percent/District would understand that residents that have temporary tags in their car windows it is for a reason,” writes Ancostia_rebel, who decided to display his tag inside the car after a previous one was stolen from the outside, thus inviting a ticket. “The same thing happened to my neighbor,” chips in ladieree. And Gloria got whammied as she was at the DMV buying temp tags for the car she just bought at police auction. “I returned from DMV with the paper tags by 10:00 and there were two $100.00 tickets written at 9:43am for not displaying front and rear tags,” she writes. “The area I live in (behind Wingate) is riddled with drugs and prostitution but that just goes on non-stop and the decent citizens are ticketed repeatedly. We are on the losing end non-stop.”

Every Tuesday and Thursday, we run down what's going on in local Internet discussion groups.

Brookland
PL forwards an e-mail that's been making the listserv rounds warning residents of a “NEW WAY TO DO CAR JACKINGS (NOT A JOKE!).” Cue the creepy music: “You walk across the parking lot, unlock your car and get inside. You start the engine and shift into Reverse. When you look into the rearview mirror to back out of your parking space, you notice a piece of paper stuck to the middle of the rear window. So, you shift into Park, unlock your doors and jump out of your car to remove that paper (or whatever it is) that is obstructing your view. When you reach the back of your car, that is when the car jackers appear out of nowhere, jump into your car and take off.” Wait—there's more! “They practically mow you down as they speed off in your car.” Jesus. OK. But that's it, right? “I'll bet your purse is still in the car.” Sure it is, but that's no reason to get snide with me. “So now the carjacker has your car, your home address, your money, and your keys. Your home and your whole identity are now compromised!” Fine—no need to get hysterical; just tell me how to avoid this situation. “If you see a piece of paper stuck to your back window, just drive away, remove the paper later and be thankful that you read this e-mail.” Thanks in advance.

hstreetdc
Tired of reading one-off messages about lost cats in your nabe ’Net group? Looking for something more substantial than “Need a good handyman”? Well, Hilary near H Street sure knows how to spice things up: Just tell the group that you hear Trader Joe's has been prospecting in the area (“?!?!”). “There were some bring-TJs-to-the-Hill petitions a few years back that lost out to the NW store…but now I hear that the success of the NW store has them actively scouting for their next spot in our neck of the woods…so I am daring to get my hopes up again.” Perhaps in hopes of inciting a chat-room riot, Chris asks, “Geez, how can we stop this development. The last thing this neighborhood needs is the development of a TJ or a HT. We want organic growth. Small business. We must stop them all!!!!” But the moderator warns not to take the bait: “the person who made that comment has a ‘history’ of such. It's more about a kind of incitement, smart a** way of writing.”

MPD-1D
In a post entitled “Roving Gang of Kids last night damaging cars and terrorizing citizens,” Truxtonresident provides further proof that the kids who hang near Dunbar Senior High School have no regard for the warning labels on fire extinguishers. “I called 911 regarding a roving gang of kids on N Street NW who were fighting and setting off fire extinguishers at cars and people walking up the block. MPD responded (it looks like) in 10 minutes but instead of going down N Street at Dunbar High School - where the kids were, the MPD cruisers high-tailed down N Street towards 4th and 5th Streets.” First District Commander Diane Groomes explains that those cops were headed to a different corner to address a far more depressing scene of mayhem. “A ROBBERY CAME OUT IN THE UNIT BLOCK OF N STREET WHERE BOTH 1D AND 5D OFFICERS RESPONDED - TWO MEN WERE ARRESTED FOR ROBBING THE MAN IN THE VAN FOR ‘SOME.’” Presumably, that's “So Others May Eat,” the nearby community group that feeds the homeless.

There were a lot of big names at FedExField yesterday during the Skins–Eagles game: Betts. Campbell. Garcia. Randle El. But for any fan who had to park at one of the field's distant lots and take a Metrobus shuttle to the stadium, there were two names that were more important than any on the field: McCormick and Apollo. These are the names of the two stadium-shuttle routes, and though a newbie fan wouldn't know it, the pleasure of his NFL experience hinged almost entirely on knowing one from the other.

Let me explain. As my girlfriend and I drove with anticipation to our very first Skins game, we were steered by an attendant into the parking lot of a building called the Orthopedic and Wellness Center, where Skins fans were coughing up $30 for the privilege of parking more than a mile from the stadium. A lot attendant told us to hop on “the shuttle,” which he said would promptly return us to the lot after the game. What he didn't mention was that we would be riding on the “Apollo Drive shuttle"—not to be confused with the “McCormick Drive shuttle.” Nor did the bus driver mention this as we boarded.

Hours later, after the Skins clinched their last-place finish in the NFC East, we filed out of the stadium with the rest of the masses and made our way to the shuttle launch. There we were all corralled into a chain-link pen that eventually split into two lanes: McCormick and Apollo. We didn't know which one we wanted, and neither did a lot of our new friends in line. It didn't help that only about 14 percent of the crowd would have passed a field sobriety test.

I asked an attendant in a yellow jacket if the McCormick shuttle would take us to the Orthopedic and Wellness Center. He looked at me as if I had asked to be dropped off at my apartment back in the District. “Orthopedic Center?” he said. “Never heard of that.” With a sense of impending disaster, I phoned a friend and had him Mapquest the orthopedic center and give me the cross streets. He didn't see any McCormicks or Apollos on the map. “You're pretty far, dude,” he told me. “I wouldn't walk it.” When I relayed the street names he gave me to the attendants, they looked ever more befuddled. “Were the buildings where you parked red or white?” one of them asked. “I think maybe you want Apollo.”

We waited nearly an hour to reach the front of the shuttle line, the crowd growing more agitated by the minute. When the attendants let our group through, people scattered to the different buses in a disorienting, Pamplona-style dash. Drunk people asked their slightly less drunk friends whether they wanted Apollo or McCormick; many of them were greeted with shrugs. We had a 50-50 shot, I figured, so we hopped on Apollo. I asked the driver if he was headed to the orthopedic center, hoping he might set me at ease. “Orthopedic center?” he asked, looking pensive. “I think maybe you want McCormick.”

We stepped off, waded through the teetering throng of windmilling attendants, and hopped on a McCormick bus. I asked our driver about the orthopedic center. More unpromising looks. “I don't know where that is,” he said, “but I think it might be Apollo.”

We hopped on yet another Apollo, this one with a new driver. I knew better than to ask, but I did anyway. This guy looked pretty sure of himself. “You don't want this bus. You want McCormick.”

We boarded our fourth bus, this one a McCormick, and we declined to ask the driver anything. We were resigned to the possibility that it wasn't going where we needed to go, but at least the people we were sitting with were as confused as we were. As the driver put the bus in gear, I asked the one sober-looking Eagles fan if he knew where we were heading. “No,” he said flatly. He added, “I can't believe you guys pay 30 bucks for this shit.”

As we crept slowly through gameday gridlock, plastered Philly fans started a chant of “Redskins suck!” A young blonde in an Eagles jersey, eyes glazed over, shouted between hiccups that her boyfriend was a “hottie.” Washington fans sat silently in various states of misery, and parents poised for a melee to break out in the aisle. I noticed my girlfriend texting a friend: “This is the worst.”

When the bus reached its destination, maybe 90 minutes after the game ended, fans stepped off and looked around hoping to make out something familiar in the dark. I saw nothing I'd seen on the way in. I ran down an attendant and asked him the question I'd been dreading: “Is there an orthopedic center around here?”

He looked at me with a hint of pity. “I hate to say it,” he said, “but I'm pretty sure you want Apollo.” He looked down at me as I crouched in despair. It was about five hours after kickoff. “The only thing I can recommend is that you hop on one of these empty McCormicks, take it back to the stadium, and get on an Apollo.”

I walked off in a daze, then called my Mapquest friend and gave him our new address. He plugged it in and said we were about a mile and a half from the orthopedic center. We went to a nearby Radisson Hotel and called a cab. When the cabbie arrived he told us we were lucky.

“I got stuck in here,” he said, otherwise we never would have gotten a cab. He had just given a ride to a distressed Skins fan who didn't know where she was in relation to her car. It had taken about a half-hour to get her a short distance, netting him a measly fare. After dropping her off, he couldn't get out of the stadium traffic. “It's terrible,” the cabbie said. “Nobody knows where they are.”

He dropped us at the orthopedic center, near the Apollo shuttle launch, and wished us luck. As we walked to our car, we saw a confused-looking woman in a Skins jersey standing in a nearly empty parking lot. She was turning in slow circles, trying to get her bearings.

I hate to say it, but I'm pretty sure she wanted McCormick.

When the D.C. Public Library announced the arrival of wireless Internet at DCPL locations across the city in September, only a single neighborhood branch out of more than 20 found itself uninvited to the hip Wi-Fi party: the Deanwood Kiosk.

The hot-spot snub shouldn't have surprised anyone who's visited the diminutive, 150-square-foot hexagonal outpost on Nannie Helen Burroughs Avenue NE—it looks more like an Italian-ice stand than a city library. Yet despite the fact that the branch claims just one table and a couple of chairs for patrons, DCPL spokesperson Monica Lewis says wireless Internet could reach the kiosk within a few months.

“A broadband line is what's needed,” says Lewis. “We'll probably do it sometime in 2007, and probably in the earlier part of the year.”

For now, the kiosk gets by with just a single computer helmed by branch manager Lisa Hook. “There's no card catalog, but they [DCPL] provide me with the laptop to look up things that visitors need,” Hook says. “It's pretty good. I do have Internet.”

Every Tuesday and Thursday, we run down what's going on in local Internet discussion groups.

MPD-6D
Ms V has a law-enforcement question: “My oldest daughter, who is 12 years old, snook a 17 year old boy in the house. Is there something I can do to keep this 17 year old boy away from my daughter? He lives in our apartment building.” Commander Robin Hoey urges her to call him immediately, but Lt. Ronald Netter goes one better. “Give me his name and address and I will speak with him. Also, you may want to start with your daughter opening the door for this 17 year old,” he writes. In a wishful afterthought, Netter adds, “Hopefully he is just visiting.”

Brookland
This listserv fends off spam better than most. So when a gibberish-laden, insecurity-bating e-mail manages to sneak past the goalie, chat-room participants don’t always know what to make of it. In a post titled "Sexy Military Chick wanna date with you, my holy," a woman named Mary refers Brooklanders to a dating Web site for "uniform friends" and urges residents to "come in and play with me." Poster Karen is the first to express puzzlement. "Um, what is this?" she asks. Todd has the answer: "Proof that the moderators really don't censor this listserv."

AdamsMorgan
Believe it or not, a poster seems to be struggling to unload a pair of tickets to see Queensryche at the 9:30 Club this coming Saturday. Silver_surfer15 suggests that he paid more than $40 apiece for the tix, but he's not so delusional as to ask for anything close to face. “$50 for both,” he offers. Mind you, this will be your last chance to hear a “Silent Lucidity” encore before the prog metal act lights out for three different House of Blues franchises on its fall tour. “I will take Paypal or cash,” assures silver_surfer15, leaving a phone number. “[W]e'll work out ticket transfer.”

Every Tuesday and Thursday, we run down what's going on in local Internet discussion groups.

AdamsMorgan
Last week, scarlsondc spotted a handful of workers doing measurements inside the former DCCD music shop on 18th Street NW. He said the group buying the vacant building is a nonprofit working in drug and alcohol rehabilitation. Naturally, the rumor of a possible rehab clinic being dropped in the middle of our premier nightlife district set off an informal contest for Most Ironic Analogy among commenters. lst103dc asks, “But isn't putting an alcohol rehab facility in the middle of 18th Street like putting a Weight Watchers meeting next to Maggie Moos?” And poster martymoo69 tries to go one better: “It does seem like an odd location for alcohol rehab …kind of like putting a methadone clinic in Laos.”

Brookland
Poster baringlake is tired of hopscotching over urine streams and fetid T.P. on the way to the Rhode Island Avenue metro station: “There are “Jiffy John” port-a-john toilets at the…station. They do not appear to be maintained in any way, and often people who have to walk by the toilets (and there are many of us since the toilets are placed along a major walkway) are forced to walk over blue urinal liquid that's overflowed, as well as toilet paper and other garbage from the port-a-john.” And fancy footwork can only go so far: “the stench often coming out of the port-a-johns, even when the doors are closed, is unbelieveable.”

MPD-2d
Anarchy spreads west of Rock Creek Park! Either that, or Ward 3 puritans are branding the homes of Tenleytown adulterers:

Psa 202 4400 b/o Chesapeake
C1 reports that his garage door was spray painted with red paint.
A letter “A” was drawn along with other unidentifiable symbols.
------------------------
Psa 202 4400 b/o Chesapeake
C1 reports that someone spray painted her garage door
with red paint. There was a letter “A” inside of a circle and
“06 *** capitalism” drawn on the garage door.

A few weeks ago, 7th District Commander Joel Maupin lamented the less-than-ideal placement of one of Southeast D.C.'s new Metropolitan Police Department surveillance cameras. Police had hoped to hang a camera near the courtyard of the Wheeler Terrace apartment buildings, where three people have been killed this year, but instead had to settle for a less beleaguered spot up the street at Wheeler Road and Valley Avenue SE. The problem, Maupin noted, was that the city didn't own any fixtures near the Wheeler Terrace courtyard that could support a camera.

But sometimes the city is willing to lease what it doesn't own. After what Pepco spokesperson Mary-Beth Corbett Hutchinson describes as a “lengthy negotiation,” city officials have struck a deal with the utilities company so that police can hang surveillance cameras from certain Pepco-owned utility poles around town. “Essentially, we will provide the use of the pole, and our engineers will dictate which poles can be used” safely, says Hutchinson. “We will not have anything to do with choosing [the site], installing, maintaining, or repairing any of the equipment.” Pepco regularly leases out space on its poles to other utility companies, says Hutchinson, who adds that the costs of such arrangements are confidential.

The deal vastly increases the city's logistically friendly locations for its cameras, which until now have been affixed primarily to street lamps and District-owned poles. It also puts the private company in an unusually awkward position. Although the D.C. Council passed emergency legislation this summer giving police $2.3 million to deploy four dozen cameras around town, all of which will be installed by the end of the week, some politicians and civil-liberties advocates criticized the city for an earlier round of camera installations. Pepco's willingness to lease its space to the city should not be seen as an endorsement of police surveillance, says Hutchinson.

“We have to offer the same facility to a government agency that we would offer to private customers,” she says. “It's not a comment on whether we approve or disapprove of cameras.…I hope we won't be cut into the principle of the issue. That's for others to debate and decide.”

ADDENDUM, 9/21, 2:38 P.M.: Kevin P. Morison, director of communications for the Metropolitan Police Department, notes that none of the city's 48 current cameras are on Pepco utility poles. Morison says the department may make use of the company's poles in the future if more cameras are added.

From the Washington Post standards and ethics code, 1999: “The Washington Post as a newspaper respects taste and decency, understanding that society's concepts of taste and decency are constantly changing. A word offensive to the last generation can be part of the next generation's common vocabulary.”

From washingtonpost.com, as of 11:18 a.m.:

Every Tuesday and Thursday, we run down what's going on in local Internet discussion groups.

ustreetnews
If you're a beat cop, what's worse than getting chewed out by your commander? How about getting showed up by him at a crime scene. According to Councilmember Jim Graham, after a woman was robbed by a BB-gun-toting perp in Mount Pleasant, police found the firearm in a nearby abandoned house. Once 3rd District Commander Larry McCoy got a looksy at the gun, he “went to the house, talked to the officers, saw the gun and some stolen property.” The way Graham tells it, McCoy then showed the investigative scruples that had apparently eluded his officers: “McCoy asked if anyone had gone upstairs to make sure nobody else was in the house. There were holes through the floor, and the staircase was unstable. Yet, he went up the stairs. Commander McCoy found the suspect hiding in a back room. He was identified as Paul Henderson, a registered sex offender with a lengthy record. Henderson had a crack pipe in his hand.”

MPD-4D
Careful where you mark your territory in Petworth. According to a 4th District crime report, on Aug. 17 a man “was urinating in the alley, when a white truck pulled up. [The suspect] exited the vehicle, asked [the victim] why was [he] peeing on the side of his house.” The suspect then took “an [unknown] object and struck [the victim] in the head causing injury, while [the driver] sat in the truck. [The victim says that] while running to his vehicle, [the suspect] took an object & struck his vehicle causing damage. [The suspect and his driver] fled westbound into the 700 blk of Kennedy St. NW.”

hstreetdc
“I think having a block party or at least the concept is really a good idea,” one resident carefully writes of an upcoming bash just off H Street NE. Then comes the catch: “I think the parking rules are inconvenient and as a working resident, I do my shopping and normal house errands on Saturday.” In a response entitled “Sour Grapes,” party booster stainless_steel_justis plays the role of welcome wagon: “Good grief, it's just one day, get over it.…Also, why not just take a moment to meet your neighbors, then maybe you will be included in the planning next time.”

Every Tuesday and Thursday, we run down what's going on in local Internet discussion groups.

MPD-1D
It's not like the D.C. Department of Corrections has exclusive rights to humiliating prisoner escapes. When asked what the deal was with the police chopper circling over 13th Street and Maryland Avenue NE at around 10 a.m. Monday, Commander Diane Groomes replies in a quick post, “The Fifth District had an escaped prisoner out of their wagon along Bladensburg Rd near their station…thus helicopter used to canvass along Bladensburg Rd.” Amanda, apparently one of those types who needs to know every last detail, asks, “Was the escaped prisoner apprehended?” To which Groomes replies, “He is still at large—have to get the info from the Fifth District.” Adds Dottie: “MPD reports that they are attempting to locate a prisoner who escaped from an MPD vehicle at 1300 Maryland Ave. NE. Description: Black male, wearing all black clothing.”

Petworth
Maddie gets enough about homicides in the news; she doesn't need to read about them in her neighborhood chat room. “This listserve is too depressing,” she writes in response to a notice about a shooting at 7th and Kennedy Streets NW. “I love Petworth, as a new resident, but I have two children under 4 and every other message has to do with this kind of violence. I may seriously start reconsidering having moved here.” Don't worry, Maddie—Charles is there to comfort the wary. “Where would you go?” he asks. “Georgetown? Oh, no…they have throat slashers there. My point is.…violence is EVERYWHERE! I'm thankful that we have a mayor, city council, and police chief who are at least trying to be on top of things. Stay a while…I think that you and your…children will be o.k.” And just in case Maddie's considering fleeing for the ’burbs, community activist Joseph Martin notes, “Gangs are very active in Arlington, Alexandria, Fairfax County among other places.”

Brookland
If slot-machine petitioners are failing to win the hearts of Brooklanders, it's certainly not for a lack of assertion. Loretta shares a note from a friend who had a testy exchange with a pair of slot sluts on the Metro: “The two guys collecting signatures at the Brookland station on Thursday couldn't even articulate what the petition was for, other than that it was ‘about slots,’ and were pretty pushy in their insistence that I ‘just sign anyway.’ (No way.) They also claimed to be working for the DC government and said that the DC government was paying them to collect signatures. I told them that I certainly hoped that wasn't the case, as that would be illegal.” Joe had his own run-in with an aggressive trio of petitioners, none of whom lived in the city; when he informed them that by law they need a D.C. resident to witness the signatures, they came up with a novel solution: “two told me I could be the witness. One became mildly threatening when I declined.”

VIEW
Chad Williams arrest report

Yesterday, Ward 1 D.C. Council candidate Chad Williams pleaded guilty to simple assault in D.C. Superior Court. The charge stemmed from a March 27 domestic violence incident with Williams' ex-girlfriend at his Holmead Place NW home. An arrest report alleges that after the woman had sought out Williams to resolve lingering financial matters, he became “angry and upset” and dragged her out of the house.

In a strange turn, the hapless pol ran into the woman the following day at the courthouse's domestic violence division, where they had both showed up to file stay-away requests against one another. Williams was arrested on the scene.

In a chat with City Desk, Williams describes the victim as a “stalker” who'd been showing up at his home uninvited ever since their split. He says that he was forced to physically remove her from his house when she refused to leave. He denies that he ever “threw the complainant to the front porch,” as the woman apparently reported to police.

“Yes, I grabbed her and forced her out of my house,” says Williams, “[but] in no way was I the one who was pursuing or stalking.” Williams says he was harassed by the arresting officer and filed a complaint with the police department's review board. The Columbia Heights native and former Marine scores big points with City Desk for not denying that he blurted the arrest report's money quote: “Get the fuck out this house, bitch.”

“I wanted the lady out the damn house,” he explains.

Should Williams manage to defeat incumbent Jim Graham for the Democratic nomination and go on to win the seat, he'll want to get his 80 hours of community service and 16 weeks of anger management classes out of the way before his council session starts. Williams admits to having mixed feelings with regard to the judge's orders. “I'm indifferent to…the community service,” he says, noting that he already works with the House of Ruth, a local network of women's shelters. “But, yeah, the anger management sucks.”

Every Tuesday and Thursday, we run down what's going on in local Internet discussion groups.

Brookland
Just because your strawberry plants mysteriously left your front porch doesn't mean they left your neighborhood, according to Joel near 20th and Kearny. In a post regarding the “perennial problem” of plant-nappings, he says he and his wife were working on their roof last Saturday when they spotted some of their own plants in a neighbor's back yard. (They'd had $300 worth of greenery pilfered back in April, he says.) Soon, with the help of a neighborhood police officer, “we had our plants back, looking a little worse for wear and in need of a good watering.” Sldicke seconds the poor care taken by neighbors who—ahem—borrow azaleas and the like: “I just found my stolen hanging flower baskets on the porch of a house near 20th and Jackson streets. I don't want them back (they're looking a bit sad at this point).”

MPD-3d
It seems the District's public-safety activists just can't satisfy the demand for color-coded ball-cap neighborhood safety patrols. With crime “on the rise in the 3rd district” and civic-minded folks “at a loss as to what to do,” Kenneth announces the unveiling of a new “Pink Hat Patrol” to supplement the current brigade of orange-hat and blue-hat patrols around the city. True to its hue, the pink hats, comprised of young women who are “former or potential gang members,” will spend their time patrolling crime-prone pockets around town and passing out literature to at-risk kids. “The ultimate goal of this effort is to assist in deterring crime,” he writes. Unclaimed colors for your own neighborhood hat patrol now include yellow, green, and magenta.

tenleytown
Advisory Neighborhood Commissioner Avram Fechter has devised a novel method for determining the worth of D.C. Council candidates: “At the Ward 3 candidate's forum last night only Sam Brooks and Robert Gordon would promise not to litter our public spaces with their campaign signs.…Candidates who are unable to gain the name recognition they need without littering our neighborhoods do not deserve my vote.” Mel, however, finds Fechter's anti-sign invective to be somewhat undemocratic: “Campaign signs in public space have been part of the American scene since the earliest days of our democracy. I have no objection to the ‘visual pollution’ at election time.” Matt simply finds it ironic: “In light of [Fechter's] message below, I [was] amused yesterday to see a Robert Gordon sign affixed to the public space in front of the Tenleytown metro, where Mr. Fechter was passing out literature on Mr. Gordon's behalf.”

Every Tuesday and Thursday, we run down what's going on in local Internet discussion groups.

Petworth
Besieged local pol Sinclair Skinner informs members that “untrue and slanderous information” about him has been posted to the listserve, and that the poster has created “a Website to try to destroy my name and career.” Skinner says he's hired an attorney and plans to bring a lawsuit—news that apparently thrills poster Robert: “Neighbors, It's official. This is the greatest day for the Petworth list serv ever. Do you think we're all going to get subpoenad [sic]? Long live the list.” John doesn't like Robert's tone: “it's not a place to be flip or sarcastic. These are serious matters involving lives.” “I'm being serious,” responds Robert, though he concedes, “I do think I am funnier than I actually am.”

Brookland
After yet another “excessively loud” party on Newton Street NE involving Catholic University students, residents mull what kind of “multi-prong approach” they should take to the issue. One prong just might involve Girls Gone Wild–style guerilla video footage of nubile co-eds. Notes Alex: “About 5 years ago, Darcy's videotaping of some of the more outrageous stuff students did in the 1200 block of Newton led to national news coverage and a crack-down by CUA.” But a better solution might be earlier drinking-and-debauchery hours for the students. “Seven years ago several neighbors on our block convened a meeting with the students and we expressed our concerns,” he went on. The students responded by “holding parties in the afternoon instead of the evening.”

AdamsMorgan
Two posters decry an abundance of overfriendly dogs in the neighborhood. “When people are walking to work, shopping and coming and going from the area of Adam Morgan, move your animal to the side,” urges D. “Stop letting your dogs jump on people with there nasty paws?when they have been peeing and defecating on the walk you just took them on.” Poster Ed has a particular offending pooch in mind: “Beware of the dreadful piebald Chow Chow that will jump on you around [Safeway]—its porcine owner won't even [make] eye contact…let alone apologize.”