I say to you sir: NOT COOL.

I have a few bones to pick with the DC government today. This weekend we were almost killed by secret service men and bombs on the Potomac. Well, neither of things really technically happened, but I digress. Let me explain. (No, there is too much.)

On Saturday night, we were peacefully sitting around the apartment finishing dinner when loud explosions rocked the building. I shit you not, the ground was shaking. BAM!!-BAM!!-BAM!!-BAM!!-BAM!! It was like machine gun fire right outside our window. We all jumped to our feet - Folk Metal slammed down hard on his already swollen ankle* while climbing over the couch and I banged my knee on the coffee table and ran over the cat. All we could see was a rising column of smoke no less than 100 yards away, somewhere over Virginia Ave next to the Watergate. I grabbed the remote and frantically cycled through Local News 8, 12, CNN, MSNBC, Headline News, Fox - all nothing. And then again, BAM!!-BAM!!-BAM!!-BAM!!-BAM!! Folk Metal was still at the window and said he saw explosions in the sky. J said they looked like missles aimed at the planes - National's flight path goes right over our house. I grabbed the cat and almost pulled his claws out by ripping him from his post. Get the cat in the carrier. Find out what has happened. Is there gas in the car? I don't hear any sirens. Is the phone still working? Get away from the windows. Find out what has happened. Where are the candles? The lights are still on. Take a breath. And then again BAM!!-BAM!!-BAM!!-BAM!!-BAM!! And then it was quiet. J said, Wait, it's just fireworks. It looks like fireworks. I said, the fuck? FM said, Yeah it's just fireworks - maybe a barge exploded or something. That didn't sound right. I agreed. It did not sound like fucking fireworks. I couldn't stop my hands from shaking for like a half an hour. None of the news channels said anything about it that night, and only on Monday did I read in Express that I wasn't the only one losing my shit over a fucking fireworks show that night. So, to the Kennedy Center PR Director, the Potomac River Fireworks and Pyrotechnics Department, and to the DC Government Event Logistics and Try-Not-to-Scare-the-Shit-Out-of-Your-Citizens Council: Not cool.

After a GREAT night's sleep, on Sunday morning we were on our way to Rosslyn (no, not for Starbucks) and I was driving because of FM's aforementioned ankle injury. When we got on the Potomac River Freeway, I noticed a black Suburban a few cars back with a light rack so I made sure to go the speed limit, even though everyone know's it's Park Police and not Secret Service that have all the power in this town. It's important to mention that the lights were off and the sirens were silent. We were headed for a double exit lane, both on the right, and approaching a split in the road getting onto Roosevelt Bridge right in front of the Kennedy Center. The Suburban pulled out of my lane and started to speed up, heading for the left exit onto the E St Expressway. I noticed that it was two Suburbans as the first one began to pass, and then suddenly the front Suburban swung back into my lane just as the left lane was splitting off. Then the Suburban that was RIGHT NEXT TO ME started to pull into my lane, squeezing me against the guardrail. I had to slam on my brakes and swerve to miss the fucking behemouth - and then, AND THEN, he puts on his fucking lights and speeds away onto the bridge. I think I honked as FM exploded on the seat next to me screaming his head off that they almost fucking drove us off the road. And me, again, with the shaking. Fucking assholes. And so, to the Secret Service, the Roosevelt Bridge and Exit Lane Signage Commission, and to Chevy, because Suburbans are fhuge and fugly: Let me repeat, Not cool.

A big F this week for trust in the government to inform and protect me.

*Injury from an unrelated Ultimate Fighting Championship match ealier in the day. To quote FM, "No comment."