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Ah, ShamrockFest, where legions of young people celebrate the full sweep and majesty of Irish culture by getting drunk in a parking lot. Every year, they come in droves to RFK Stadium, presumably leaving large swaths of Northern Virginia unoccupied. And a significant portion must spend the morning pregaming, for when they exit the Stadium-Armory Metro stop, several cross 19th Street SE and duck into the first available alley to empty their bladders.
My alley. Right behind my house.
I suppose I could dust off my old rant and tell these kids to get off my lawn, but no one cares. I’ve said my piece, I’ve made my phone calls, I’ve worked with the Washington Convention and Sports Authority, police, and various elected officials—-and still they come. And I know when I’m beat. So rather than impotently raging against the tides, let’s have a little fun.
Join me on a tour down memory lane of the alley pissers I have known. Let’s start with 2009. The annual St. Patrick’s Day festival predates this date, but alas, my pictures do not. We open, at the top of this post, on a rainy day, but no amount of drizzle can dampen our partygoers’ spirits. Faces have been blurred to protect the uninhibited. (Fair warning: It gets NSFW.)
For some reason, my alley seems to be somewhat more popular with women, while gentlemen prefer to piss slightly further afield. Here, in a 2012 shot, is a young man no doubt making his mother very proud.
Which brings us to this weekend, a brisk, sunny day whose weather was just right for drinking. And at 4:04 p.m., less than an hour after the fest began, we had our first visitor. The young man in question, in the tank top and, um, interesting socks, was rather upset at my photography, and loudly announced that I was a “pedophile” for taking his picture.
The ladies followed soon after.
By now, a quiet word with the MPD and Transit Police on duty had effectively closed the alley for business. Which is good, as I had better things to do than chase people all day long. I grabbed my 6-year-old and we went out the front to go to dinner.
Unfortunately, nature’s call will not be denied. The police may have stopped them in the alleys, so why not just go out front? My neighbor’s car certainly looked inviting.
And then comes my favorite. My absolute favorite. This young guy walks past me, past my daughter, and ducks behind my neighbor’s car. Surely he sees us coming. Surely he won’t…
But he did.
Until next year, Shamrock Fest! Thanks, once again, for all the public urination.
Photos by Tim Krepp