A tall, strong-looking middle-aged man in a blue Notre Dame jersey boarded the 90 bus towards Anacostia as it began its trek down Florida Avenue this morning. He began (loudly) relating to an acquaintance his history of injury: He’d been struck with an aluminum baseball bat at the base of his skull; he’d been stabbed; he’d been shot twice; he’d been set on fire.
Indeed, his arms were covered with burn scars. I asked who set him on fire.
His girlfriend did it, he said, on August 6, 1996.
“I’m the original,” the man said. “Mr. Barbecue.”
He got off the bus before I could get his name.