Douche in DC: Drag Race

So tonight Douche in DC made our way to the annual Dupont Drag Race. For those of you that are unaware, DC's drag queens dress to the nines and trollop down 17th street in the highest heels you've ever seen. The streets were crowded, they were cold, and the beers were few and far between. Though these things appear to lead to a bad time, good attitudes were had by (almost) all, and fun was had. Mayor Fenty even showed up with his entourage, also dressed to the nines in dark green "Fenty" hats.

However, we have a bit of a bone to pick with certain douches in DC... The bike-riding ones.

Now, we love bikes. Short bikes, tall bikes, tandem bikes, what's not to love? They're green, you won't have to sell an ovary for gas money, and you can avoid the soul-sucking wait for the red line when trains share tracks because everything imaginable has gone wrong. The problem isn't with bikes, it's when you decide to ride them.

You know what? We love bikes so much we attended a leg of the Tour de France last year. Know what we didn't love about it? The superfluous bikes. We get it, we ALL like bikes, but we don't need to bring them to the Tour de France, unless we're Lance Armstrong. At the Tour de France, in the middle of a bustling city, with tons of spectators from all over the world, douchy locals felt it necessary to bring their bikes to the city. Some even dressed AS bikers. We all know what that means... spandex. Gross. Do you bring your favorite electric guitar to a Rolling Stones show? Of course not, so don't bring your damned bike to the Tour de France. Anyway, we digress. Even at a bike-based event, don't bring your stupid bike.

Much like the Tour de France, the Dupont Drag Race was filled with people of questionable (or at the least curious) sexual preferences, and also the overbearing truth that YOU SHOULDN'T BRING A BIKE. Why? We stood in crowds of people, wondering if the European convention that encourages publicly consuming alcohol applied here, being squished so closely to strangers that we wondered if we accidentally had what Craig's list refers to as a "Casual Encounter", and what do we find in our way? A bike. Some clown brings a bike, stands it by him, and it cock-blocks everyone's good time. Fortunately, we get distracted by a few pushy drunk girls and once the bike & sass are overlooked, and we watch the many Sarah Palins/ Texas Polygamists scuttle down the street.

Finally, we re-group, sober up, and head for some available transportation, and as we gather by a large tree, what could be in our way? A bike. Laying on the ground, right where we want to walk, an effing bike. So we waited for a time to squeeze a shot through the dense crowd, and took a photo of the douchebaggery, giving it a piece of our minds in the mean time.