Has this ever happened to anyone? Or perhaps this is one of our readers? On Saturday morning around 7:30 am, I found a guy sleeping on the front stoop of my building. No shirt, no shoes, but cell phone in hand. We had a lovely conversation:
ArtBart: Excuse me, do you live here?
Dude: No, do you?
Dude: Where am I?
ArtBart: Washington, DC.
Dude: [obviously] No, shit.
ArtBart: You’re in Columbia Heights.
Dude: Oh. [stands up, stumbles to the sidewalk and starts making a call on his cell phone]
It was a strange way to start the day. But the real question is, how did this guy get there? He didn’t appear to be a victim of mugging or robbery. Was it a prank pulled by friends on a passed-out drunk after a house party? Or did he get kicked out of bed? Maybe he just wanted to sleep in the great outdoors of Columbia Heights?