Author Archive
Photos: Welcome To ‘Bob’s Beach’
We drive through Kalorama, Georgetown, Burleith, and finally Foxhall Village before we spot a live human being sitting on their front stoop. Just after 5 p.m., we find Bob Siciliano, 67, relaxing in a patio chair. His barefeet resting on a small metal table. His dress shirt untucked and unbuttoned down to his waist.
Siciliano says he left his downtown real-estate law firm at 3 p.m. He’s been on his patio ever since—working his way through a pile of magazines (Consumer Reports, home building mags,”a bunch of crap”), answering messages on his BlackBerry, and zipping through David Ignatius’ latest terrorism-and-nukes thriller.
“I love sitting outside,” Siciliano says. “My neighbors will tell you.” We’d ask them but they’re not out unless they’re hiding behind the well-managed shrubs and tree shade in the small park across the street.
Photo: Yes. You Can Steal WiFi In Front Of Fenty’s House
There’s only one thing you can get away with in front of Mayor Adrian Fenty’s Crestwood abode. If you are desperate, you can park behind the empty 4th District police cruiser and the scary unmarked Crown Vic. You can then turn on your lap top and start stealing WiFi.
It’s tricky. The strength indicator varies depending on how you cradle the machine on your thighs. If you aim your laptop towards Fenty’s home, your signal only gets stronger.
Unfortunately, this is about all the access you will be getting.
Read More “Photo: Yes. You Can Steal WiFi In Front Of Fenty’s House” »
Photos: Smoke Break
“It’s hell on rocks.”
Dominique Davis, 26, is sitting on her building’s stoop, taking a break from her too hot apartment with the bed bugs, cracked ceilings, roaches, and the mice she says she just lets run free.
This morning her landlord, Rufus Stancil, sent somebody to cut the grass. It had been a while. He ran out of gas before he could finish the job. There’s a large square of grass left making the yard look like it has a bad comb over.
Davis says she was awoken at 7:30 a.m. by a knock on her door. “I jumped out of my sleep,” Davis says. It was a repairman. He had no ID. She says a court-order stipulated that any work on her apartment must be done with the presence of a D.C. inspector.
Photo: Egg Salad In The Park
Penny Foster, 45, is just getting to her orange. She arrived at the park, located at 11th and Monroe Street NW, a half hour ago for lunch, taking a seat at an old chess table. Nearby, a man washes his blue Buick Skylark, his car stereo locked into soul tunes. Foster has been coming to the park, she says, for 20 years.
Until three months ago, Penny worked as a cashier at the Giant around the corner. Today was so nice she said she decided to commute in from her home in Lincoln Heights taking the X2 and then the 70 up Georgia Ave. “I stop in to eat my lunch and to say hello to some of my co-friends,” she explains. She is surrounded by men. One is wearing a family reunion t-shirt. Another sips from a huge soda. There are a lot of easy jokes.
Foster knew the park when it was just a dirt road. A lot of her park friends she says have passed away. But there are enough friendly faces to keep her coming back. “The trolley car used to come around here,” she adds. “The playground here has been remodeled three times.”
Today, Foster says, she ate an egg-salad sandwich, apple juice, and a regular salad. While she sat with her orange, she and her friends made a big discovery in the park.
