As Washington City Paper wrote in its May 10 issue that year, the scars of the violence were quickly cleaned up: "With the exception of the shattered bus shelters along 16th Street NW, daily downtown commuters through the area saw no signs that major disturbances had rocked the community for two straight nights. The grimmest reminders of the violence—Church's Fried Chicken and the 7-Eleven on Mount Pleasant Street, architecturally the most obnoxious structures on the street—were quickly being restored to operating order."

According to WAMU's Emily Friedman: "While the riots didn't single-handedly level the playing field for Latinos, they did permanently change the conversation."

City Paper, at the time, noted the disconnections between local Latinos and the D.C. government:

The riots, however, demonstrated the acute lack of leadership within the city's Hispanic community. No one leader could speak with any authority to the group seeking confrontations with the police. The factionalized community can barely set aside its own cultural and geographic differences long enough each year to put on the annual Hispanic festival. ... At one point Monday night, local and national Hispanic leaders, unable to get demonstrators to put down their rocks and bottles and follow them, decided to talk among themselves at the El Tamuzul Restaurant on 18th Street NW. During the session, they drew up a list of demands, and a meeting with Mayor Sharon Pratt Dixon was at the top of their list. That demand was fulfilled within a half hour because Dixon had been circulating through the area all evening, looking for community leaders to confer with. 

Relations, fortunately, have improved considerably since then.

If you still haven't stocked up on essentials, your best bet is to avoid the big grocery chains. Trust me. Here's a survival tip: hit up the corner bodega on your block. There's a good chance that they are still well stocked. And there's an even better chance that you won't have to stand in line for hours nor arm wrestle anyone over that last bag of rice.

I just took a quick survey of Mount Pleasant Street's bodegas. There was plenty of food, plenty of aisle space, and the lines were minimal!

Check out my rundown after the jump.

International Progreso Market:

Food Stock: Extremely High. There are plenty of bags of dried beans, rows of canned beans, and coffee. A clerk was stocking eggs so that's a good sign.

Gourmet Factor: You can still find cans of octopus, glass jars of olives, and massive purple eggplants.

Line: Maybe six deep. Another four or so at the butcher counter.

Stress Factor: Zero.

Los Primos

Food Stock: Rows of detergents look untouched and there were still cases of Arizona Iced-T yet to be unpacked. So if you like overly sweetened cans of tea, you are in luck. Goya products also well represented on store shelves.

Gourmet Factor: A fine selection of Fanta including the very rare pineapple-flavored Fanta.

Line: One, maybe two people.

Stress: So low you may feel need to extend small talk with cashier.

Best Way:

Food Stock: The market's produce section is a little picked over.The section is down to two packages of garlic, and two bruised yellow onions. But there is still a mountain of potatoes, tons of mangoes, and avocados. You can forget finding any packages of ground beef or much in the way of chicken breasts. There were only four ox tail packages on the shelf, and just two packages of round steaks. You can find stew meat and chicken thighs.

Gourmet Factor: Big selection of Yellow Tail!

Line: They ranged anywhere from two to five deep.

Stress Factor: Moderate.

*photo by Darrow Montgomery.

I hope you made it to corner-store heaven. You always served me well for my convenience needs. Except your store aisles seemed a little too empty. Only one choice of garbage bags. A few loaves of white bread. A grill behind the front counter that I never saw used. An extremely limited selection of ice cream even if you count blue raspberry pops as ice cream.

But you did carry a version of the King Kone which was a huge plus. And beer. And despite your dealing with an ATM machine that seemed to break down a lot and, well, your imminent doom, you didn't take it out on the customer. We never saw you worry or freak out.

You were always friendly.

You were a few feet from my apartment. You will be missed.

None of this I particularly mind. Except for this man. He got into his car and seemed to be speeding up and down Mount Pleasant Street. It sounded like he was crashing into things. I could be totally wrong. It was 4 a.m. But what I'm not wrong about is what he was screaming at the top of his lungs.

I heard the man scream "Nigger!"

And "Fucking Nigger!"

And "Do you fucking hear me?"

I heard him loud and clear. It was scary. And it was 4 a.m. I thought about calling 911. I decided that if he said the N-Word one more time, I'd dial. The man did. I called. Thankfully, the dispatcher was nice and did not view this as a waste of time or some violation of 1st Amendment rights. She said I wasn't the first to call.

By the time the police arrived, I'm pretty sure the man was long gone. There's nothing on the listserv about the incident. Does anybody have more info on this crazy scene?