Hot damn, DC is one passive-aggressive city. When one walks around on the sidewalks, say, in Foggy Bottom…the looks you get are positively smoldering with suppressed desire to either:

• Rip you apart with wooden spoons, while enjoying some nice fava beans and a Chianti.
• Perform unspeakable and unmentionable sexual acts on you while screaming the political phrase du jour (now its WHY THE HELL DID ESPN IGNORE DC IN THEIR 50 STATES in 50 DAYS TOUR).

I don’t know what I’m supposed to do when I get these looks. Mostly I just stumble on and keep a fixed smile on my face. Once in a while I’ll accidentally lock gazes with one of these people and my heart will skip a beat. After that, I usually hope they didn’t really see me and that they were looking at something behind me.

Honestly, I wonder what some of these people do at night. I am buffeted by so much energy (mostly of the above dark variety) that I wonder where it goes after hours, when the skyscrapers (or should i say mini-skyscrapers?) darken. I can just imagine the graying executives pulling up their boats, spying those smoldering young interns… As the Washington Post documents above, DC is still about three things: sex, power, and politics.

Next time you’re walking around DC, keep an eye out. You just might catch a glimpse of the Astroglide underbelly that keeps DC humming at night.