As I hurried over to the Post Office at the tip of the Truxton Circle triangle, if that makes any sense, I saw a baby stroller sitting on the median between the east and west lanes of traffic. Getting a bit closer to the corner I saw the owner of the stroller, a dreadlocked and bent raggedy fellow with a sign of some sort. I gathered it said something about being homeless, as most of those types of signs do. I would have taken a picture with the Palm, but it won’t let me take pictures and listen to music, and it was a really good song. In the amount of time it took to wait for the light to change, he gathered up a bill from a passing motorist in an SUV.
My first thought was, please don’t let this be a fixture. I guess on the bright side one could say that it is a sign that the neighborhood is getting better because someone figured people around here must have enough money to give away, like Georgetown and Dupont. But really, no.
After finishing up at the Post Office I came back out and the beggar was gone. Looking down Rhode Island, there was no sign of him. I guess he got enough of what he wanted and moved on.
As I crossed I came a more pleasing sight. A fit and shirtless jogger pushing a baby buggy, with baby. Active fatherhood is so hot. Whomever they are jogging home to is one lucky soul.