DC en Fuego

Two nights ago, I happened to fall asleep at a decent hour only to be quickly jolted out of bed by what sounded like a car accident. I stumbled about trying to find my glasses, then managed to open the shades after only the briefest of struggles. Now, I'm always convinced I hear something, like an intruder, a ghost, a knife fight in the street (hey, this is DC, after all). And it's always nothing, just the wind or the chronic ringing in my ears or (where have you gone?) my imagination. So imagine my surprise at the sight of a gigantic fireball 3 doors down, with a pickup truck in the middle. That's right: a truck blew up on my street. The truck was totally engulfed, like it was protesting the war in Vietnam. You could sort of make out the truck in there, but it was really just a giant ball of fire. Obviously, I felt pretty great that my own car was parked 4 spots behind the fireball.

Like the rest of my new neighbors, I stumbled out into the frigid night, wearing only my jammies and a look that suggested, "where the hell have I just moved to?" Amy stayed inside and watched from the windows, missing all the neighborly chitchat. Soon, we were herded aside by the incomparable DC police force (none of whom, unfortunately, brought their Segways), while the fire department got things under control in a matter of moments. The most excitement came when a stretcher was wheeled toward the truck, bringing gasps from all assembled. Was there actually somebody in there?

Fortunately, there was not. But maybe if there had been, I'd actually be able to dig up a shred of news concerning this event. A truck BLOWS UP on my street, two white males are observed fleeing the scene, and, well: NOTHING. You can't imagine how disconcerting this is. Where's the media? Where's like the police department Press Release, or something on the website, or, I don't know, a tiny item in the next morning's paper. Has DC slid so far down the drain that a vehicle being bombed doesn't warrant any follow-up? I mean, I can't even find anything about it on my neighborhood's crime blog...which, by the way, is even more disconcerting. My neighborhood has a crime blog. And the posts don't read like "Got a parking ticket on 15th Street". Oh no, these posts are more along the lines of "Girl raped in broad daylight outside convenience store" and "My boyfriend was jumped by 3 black guys in an alley off Mt. Pleasant." This is not good.

Neil Diamond's "I Am...I Said" just came on the shuffle: "LA's fine, but it ain't home. New York's home but it ain't mine no more."

I need a drink.