It’s no secret that the summer holiday weekends bring a quiet calm upon the city. I love when all the yuppies get in their SUV’s and go to the beach. It’s really the only time D.C. is somewhat tolerable. The rest of the time, I’m torturing Mr. X to move to Brooklyn. (When I think Brooklyn, I’m talking about the Brooklyn with guidos, gold chains, and the best pizza not the Brooklyn overrun with… wait… SUV’s and yuppies who eat couscous and summer in the Hamptons. Ick.)
So what am I doing this weekend? No one cares. The more important question is “What are YOU doing this weekend?”
Rock & Roll Hotel
And, tell them at the door that that’s who you’re there to see, bitches.