I work in DC. I love it. I know a lot of people hate the rush on the Metro, the cramped seating, the delays. It’s a pain, but I’ll take that over working in some pathetic suburb that can only be accessed by cars. I love walking down the sidewalks. I love the power that pedestrians have, even though some pedestrians are absolute bastards about it.Every morning as we all walk to our respective offices, which are typically suites in 10-story buildings, we aren’t merely guided by the walk signal. Some jackass decided to give a bunch of people whistles and have them direct traffic. I’m not sure if these people actually serve a purpose or if this is just a way to employ them. Despite my tone in the previous sentence, I’m not in the least bothered by them. It reminds me of India,  and so every morning around 8:55, I’m hit with a little wave of nostalgia. The other office-goers have no such memories to fall back on, so they squint, glare and cringe, doubtless wondering why on earth a group of people should be paid to blow on whistles.

I just think it has an air of carnival to it. I revel in it.