Separation Before Birth Beginning next week, hundreds of potential D.C. residents will take refuge in the Land of 10,000 Lakes. When the Washington Fertility Study Center closed its doors at the Watergate last Friday, the local sperm bank began packing up its cryopreserved specimens to prepare them for a road trip to Reprotech Ltd., a storage facility in Roseville, Minn. Many clinic clients expressed concern about the move, questioning why their DNA will be housed in a different time zone. “I think it’s just a psychological thing,” says Dr. Salvatore Leto, a Washington Fertility Study Center andrologist. “They’re here, and their samples are 1,100 miles away.” Leto says local sperm banks don’t have the storage capacity to accommodate the center’s stock. “I’m going to take my time on the road. I don’t want to take any chances,” says driver Leto.
See Spot Splattered Six-year-old Robert McQueen was strolling around Logan Circle with best friend Judy, when Judya mutt in heatbroke McQueen’s leash hold and ran smack-dab into the path of a truck. Even after the fatal encounter, the truck driver never slowed down. “We don’t take dog reports,” a police officer on the scene told Maurie McQueen, Robert’s mother. McQueen’s request would have been honored in surrounding jurisdictions, though: “[W]e would investigate it as a hit-and-run,” notes Arlington Detective Ken Rosenberg. D.C. cops stand by their (in)action. “The driver may not have even known he hit the dog,” notes police spokesman Kervin Johnson. “He may have thought he hit a pothole.”
Dogging Juan Halfway through Monday’s debut of Make My Funk the P-Funk, D.C. playwright Kenneth Carroll’s fictionalization of Marion Barry’s 1990 downfall, “Devel Oper” walks onto the Woolly Mammoth stage leading by leash a black journalist named “Dog Juan.” The journalista not-so-subtle ringer for former Washington Post Barry-basher Juan Williamsis trotted out by Devel’s media-establishment pals as an expert on black D.C. “As a black man,” Dog Juan declares, “I’m offended by the mayor’s attempt to get, as they say, ‘funky’ with the people. It’s people like him and Malcolm X that’ve brought our people backward.” Carroll admits the imitation was an intentional shot at the tone of Williams’ coverage. “[I]t was more like ‘We gotta get this guy out because white people will think we’re all like him,’ as opposed to, ‘This guy’s a terrible politician, and he’s not providing basic services’”
themes central to Carroll’s scathing portrait. Williams hasn’t read the play but has no regrets: “I think [Barry] has done damage to the black community,” he says.
Killer Party At-Large Councilmember Harold Brazil has never been a big supporter of community protests against noisy bars and restaurants, but Logan Circlites insist he’s taking his pro-business bias to extremes. To celebrate his birthday, Brazil, who oversees the agency that administers liquor licenses, held a bash on Tuesday night at Diversité, a sleek club on 14th Street NW. Although Brazil held the same event at the club a year ago, a lot has changed since: Diversité patrons have allegedly been involved in two murders just outside the club, prompting liquor-license protests from the local advisory neighborhood commission and the Q Street Association. “I just think the guy’s out in left field,” says Q Street resident Wayne Dickson. Brazil’s office pleads ignorance. “[The neighbors] never contacted us,” says a staffer.
Cracking Them Up This week, District officials received invitations for a unique holiday event: the Capitol Hill Crack House and Alley Tour, set for Dec. 19 in the vicinity of 16th and D Streets SE. Back in September, tour hosts Bryce Suderow and his Capitol Hill neighbors posted bright-pink mock advertisements for local drug markets in their neighborhood: “We operate convenient, full-service outlets and guarantee no police hassles or interference,” the fliers noted. Suderow says neighbors created the fliers to needle the police, who typically respond to residents’ complaints with a couple of cruiser drive-bys, a few yawns, and a lot of excuses. Police officers, meanwhile, debate Suderow’s semantics. “What’s the writer’s definition of open-air drug markets?” responds Sgt. Phillip Parker.
Reporting by Jason Cherkis, Nefretiti Makenta, Michael Schaffer, and Erik Wemple.
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