Nearly two million people coursed through the District of Columbia yesterday. Many of them didn't know where to go or how to get from one place to another. So they asked the folks who were manning security checkpoints and other crowd-control stations.

Professional crowd controller Jim McClory got a lot of those questions. Too bad he came in from Philadelphia for the event. “There’s just an unbelievable amount of people," says McClory. "And when they’re all asking for directions, you’re trying to give them the best ones possible, even if you’re not from the area.” Most of McClory's time was consumed by directing—he didn't have to get out the pepper spray.

McClory works for Contemporary Services Corporation (CSC), an organization specializing in peer group security and crowd management.

The 80 crowd controllers from the company were assigned positions at 6:30 a.m., and they rotated spots every few hours. At around 2 pm, McClory’s post was at New York Avenue and 14 Street NW. “I feel like it’s a bit more controlled up here, but still, I just become completely inundated with questions. It’s important to stay calm and answer clearly. This sort of thing is more like customer service crowd control."

“Joe Temp” chronicles the District’s inaugural working class.

Photos by Charlotte Kesl

T-shirts are as common a sight as cops. Hats, too.

But two women from Brooklyn are claiming a corner on the Obama commemorative water supply. "I haven’t seen anyone with water like this,” says 23-year-old Julie Harris, one of the Brooklynites. “It’s not really for public use. You supposed to keep it, not drink it. But if you do drink it, it tastes like a Harvard Law degree. Yum. I’ll take that. It makes you smart.”

Harris's partner, Abby Blanchard, also 23, takes credit for scoring what the women refer to in on-street promotions as "H2Obama." “My dad got this Obama water and my friend made some Obama pins, so we thought, yeah, let’s go to D.C,” says Blanchard, a music promoter.

The two did their hawking at the intersection of 9th and E Streets NW. Cloaked in a “Yes We Can Believe” scarf and a cozy oversized Obama hoodie, they were reaching the end of a vending marathon in D.C..

Blanchard, who bought hundreds of Obama pins from a New York designer, made her real money on the Mall Sunday afternoon. “At the end of the day we had made $1,500 just on selling buttons,” she says. “When Obama’s re-elected in four years you’ll see me back in D.C. selling these things.”

The girls store the water and buttons in a space downtown that Blanchard’s father owns. But what will they do with all the bottles and buttons surplus at the end of the week? “I’m gonna hold it down and sell all the leftovers to Japanese people on eBay,” says Harris. “You can really turn this stuff around if you know where the market is.”

“Joe Temp” chronicles the District’s inaugural working class.

Photos by Charlotte Kesl

Traffic deadlocks. Detoured buses. Jammed Metro. The city’s roads and railways are completely inundated and it’s gridlock-inducing. But if there’s one traffic channel that hasn’t experienced unendurable congestion (unless you're trying to go from the swearing-in to the parade route), it’s the bike lanes. D.C. Pedicab recognized the inauguration for its unique chance to drum up business. And it needed more drivers.

Josh Sachs, part-time mechanic at Silver Bikes in Silver Spring, heard D.C. Pedicab was looking for people for inaugural week. As a bike enthusiast who is desperate for work, Sachs jumped on the opportunity to get paid for spinning. And he's prepared for the forecast: “I got my leather motorcycle boots and this thick layered jacket that I bought just for this job. Yeah, it gets really cold.”

The only requirement to be a Pedicab driver is to have a driver’s license. Drivers make up their own schedule and rent the cabs for 40 bucks per day. They pocket all their profits and create their own rates. Sachs, who has been driving for a week, had his best day yesterday, raking in 200 bones for six hours of work.

Sachs said that most of the Pedicabbers he’s talked to are travelers. They work full-time as professional pedalers and follow large crowds around the nation. Tourists, as you might guess, make up the majority of his clientele. “I’ve been collecting states. So far I’ve got Kentucky, Georgia, Hawaii, Florida.…The guy from Hawaii was definitely the most memorable. He had me take him 30 blocks and he was yelling ‘Aloha!’ to every person we passed.”

Some climbs are just too steep for these 3-wheeled, 21-speed wagons. Sachs found that out last week. “These people wanted to go to the Capitol to get their inauguration tickets. We got to Independence Street and Capitol Hill. I started up, but couldn’t make it. I had to drop them off at the bottom. But I ended up giving them a good rate in return.”

Sachs said he’ll be out in the wind chill till 2 this morning. “I think a lot of people are more into riding for the novelty of it. But there’s definitely a high level of practicality. I mean, it’s faster than walking."

“Joe Temp” chronicles the District’s inaugural working class.

Photos by Charlotte Kesl

Woe betide the D.C. street vendor who sets up shop on the sidewalk without a license. Competitors narc, and cops swarm. Pretty soon, the scofflaw vendor is packing his wares.

But this is the inauguration, and the authorities have real menaces to worry about.

So Ismail Jones and Jamar Muhammad are doing their business unimpeded by officialdom at 14th and V Streets NW, outside of Busboys and Poets. “We didn’t have a permit to set up. We just came down nine in the morning and got our spot. The Washington police haven’t harassed us, either. They actually came up and started talking to us. They support us,” Jones said.

What are these guys selling? What else–Obama mugs, Obama t-shirts, Obama hats, and Obama key chains. Almost all of the aforementioned are 2 for $5, a bargain by most standards. Both guys are from Philadelphia and make a living by selling apparel and accessories in Northern Philly.

Both guys said they’ve had trouble finding permanent work and credit Obama for helping them put bread on the table. Jones said, “Obama hasn’t signed anything yet, but he’s already given us income. If it wasn’t for him we wouldn’t be here right now.”

Jones and Muhammad have been selling in D.C. for a week and making frequent trips between Busboys and a wholesale warehouse on Florida Avenue and 5th Street NW. “Yesterday we had to renew our supplies twice in one day. And actually, I have to go restock now,” said Muhammad.

They usually sell whatever is hot and in demand, calling themselves “full time hustlers.” However, they said they’ll be sticking with Obama merchandise well after inaugural festivities. “This is history, man. It’s history. Whoever thought they would say (picking up a deck of cards), who got those Obama cards? But people buy them. There will never be an Obama item that nobody will want,” Muhammad said.

Photos by Charlotte Kesl

The intersection at 18th Street and Florida Avenue NW is a classic L'Enfantian gaffe, a place that was not designed for a world of fast-moving automobiles. This is a modern infrastructural clusterfuck, and "18th and Florida" doesn't adequately convey the confusion of the crossroads. U Street and Vernon Street also feed into the intersection, making it a tough place to navigate—even when millions of people aren't flooding into town.

Good thing someone thought to call in Chris Lowery, a private contractor who lives in Northern Virginia. He has a pretty stable clientele, but capitalizes on side gigs whenever he can. His job this week is just that, a temp position he landed through a friend. “I did a job for a buddy of mine a few months ago. It was directing traffic for an event at the WWII memorial. When inaugural week rolled around, he asked me if I’d be interested in directing traffic again. I said sure.”

Lowery, who put in over thirteen hours Saturday night, is responsible for directing buses at 18th and Florida. Most of the buses are part of a nationwide youth leadership organization that flooded D.C. to mark history. Suited up in a florescent yellow vest, a well-insulated ski jacket, and holding a small yellow flashlight, Lowery points to the congestion across the street in front of 18th and U diner. “See, right now we’re trying to coordinate this mess. This has got to be one of the most confusing intersections in the city, and with all these people and increased security it just further obstructing things. It’s almost an accident waiting to happen. But that’s why I’m here.”

Although his job is primarily to coordinate with the bus dispatchers and to prevent gridlock in Adams Morgan, he has become a go-to guy for lost out-of-towners. “I don’t mind helping people out. But coordinating all these buses and being a tourist guide is just exhausting," says Lowery. "I’m hoping I can finish up Monday night because it’s just too grueling of work.”

Asked why he got stuck with one of the worst intersections in the city, Lowery said, “I guess they put me here because I’m taller and maybe a little more noticeable than most people. But I don’t always wear this vest. They gave it to me. I don't usually walk around the streets in bright yellow."

Photos by Charlotte Kesl