Category: DC

  • GOP Clown Show

    GOP Clown Show

    Spring 2015

    The political pulse of Washington, D.C. beat strong and steady, with politics woven into the fabric of daily life. It was against this backdrop that I received a call from Jim McBride, president and founder of the grassroots organization, Network for Progress, Jim, a hope monger and change-maker deeply involved in Generation Obama, shared his enthusiasm for my events and how well our groups complemented each other.

    “We have a special event in mind,” Jim began. “A Super PAC is in town and wants to host a happy hour in D.C. Someplace centrally located, good food with a breezy deck.”

    Our conversation naturally turned to politics, as it often did in this town. The Super PAC aimed to encourage Joe Biden to run for the presidency, just in case Hillary’s email server controversy jeopardized her chances. The idea was not only to support Biden but also to honor his late son, Beau Biden, through a fundraiser for the Fisher House Foundation . The Bidens’ commitment to serving military families made it a fitting tribute.

    June 4, 2015

    Will Pierce, a tall 26-year-old with a beaming smile is also a veteran of the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq and has worked for Hillary Clinton’s campaign in 2008 and volunteered for Obama’s that same year. Recently, he took on a new role, becoming a dedicated advocate for Joe Biden’s potential presidential run. Will’s passion for seeing Biden enter the race and his belief in the positive change Biden could bring to the country drove him to form the Super PAC “Draft Biden.”

    “We don’t want to see another Bush or Clinton in the White House,” said Will. “We’re trying to show Biden that the majority of Americans would welcome seeing him run.”

    Will, reflecting on Biden’s life and challenges, commented on how difficult it was to decipher the Vice President’s thoughts at that moment. Despite the unimaginable tragedy of losing his wife and one-year-old daughter in a car accident back in 1972, Biden didn’t step back or resign. Instead, he transformed that heart-wrenching experience into a source of strength, propelling him forward into a career dedicated to public service.

    Jim expressed his satisfaction with the amazing turnout and the overwhelming support that poured in following Beau’s tragic passing. He believed that this groundswell of affection and encouragement might persuade the Vice President to enter the race for the presidency.

    Surprisingly, even amidst the weight of Beau’s untimely death, the atmosphere was far from somber. The event managed to draw the presence of many attendees, including familiar faces like Mike Araman, Kobe Owens, Sue Schwartzberg, and Leonard Tyson, creating a sense of camaraderie and shared purpose during this pivotal moment in American politic

    “I would support either Biden or Clinton in the White House,” said Mike, a seasoned political enthusiast, his confidence in his choice evident. “Whoever wins the GOP nomination won’t stand a chance against any of them.”

    “There are too many seats in the Supreme Court that is up for nomination next term. We definitely need a Democrat in the White House,” said Leonard. 

    By the end of the night. A sizable amount of money was raised to provide free or low cost lodging to veterans and families receiving medical treatment. Supporters gathered to honor the Biden family’s contribution to the nation and support a great cause in memory of a great man, and everyone seemed to have a good time mingling and catching up with old friends.

    A couple of months later, another call from Jim.

    “August 6 is the first Republican Primary Debate,” Jim announced. “It’ll be a GOP Clown show for sure.”

    “Yes, it’s hard to believe that Donald Trump is leading in the polls and lapping Cruz by double digits.”

    “Can we host a rooftop event where we’re offered a panoramic view of the Capitol?”

    Armin Armin of Chaplin’s recommended I visit Cambria hotel down the road. “It’s where I stay when I’ve knocked back a drink or two, and I’ve gotta get up early in the morning. They have an indoor rooftop pool and a nice lounge with a stellar view of the city.”

    “Great suggestion, the Cambria near the D.C. Convention Center is the perfect location,” Jim responded.

    “I’ll talk to Evan Walton, the Director of Food and Beverage to see if he can offer specials on select apps and bar drinks.”

    “We also would like to televise Jon Stewart’s last ‘Daily Show’ after the Debate. He’s bidding farewell that night.”

    “He’s a legendary pundit and BS caller. We’ll definitely miss him.”

    “Yup after watching ten candidates for four hours play musical chairs, we”ll be bored to tears.”

    “Well, music always goes well with politics and allegiances are expressed well in song. Lemme tap into my Rolodex and contact a few musicians who can add joviality to the evening.”

    I remembered watching Flo Anito perform at the H Street Festival and enjoyed listening to her Jazz Pop on keys and guitar. Her raspy voice was addictive, and she has a large vocal range (3.5 octaves) reminding me of the highly expressive voice of Fiona Apple.

    Flo Anito singing ‘No Dust Bunnies’.

    Classically trained in voice, piano, and ‘cello, Flo began her singer/songwriter career at age 16 when she got her hands on her first guitar. She graduated from Wesleyan University in Connecticut with a B.A. in Music, and has lived and performed in the D.C. area ever since.

    Flo has graced some of DC’s biggest stages: Strathmore, Wolf Trap, Merriweather Post Pavilion, the Birchmere, Blues Alley, the Fillmore, Hamilton Live, and Bethesda Blues & Jazz as well as dozens of annual festivals in the DMV.

    “We’d love to be a part of this great event. I’ll make sure we have some exciting specials on apps and drinks for the evening. It’s going to be a fantastic night,” said Evan the food and beverage director.

    A week before the event, we were pleased to see that over 100 had RSVP’d and the numbers just kept rising.

    Jim exuded a big smile. “We’ve never gotten this kind of response for any of our events, not even the State of the Union or our annual Charity Date Auction.”

    By the end of the night over 500 people had congregated at the Cambria some socializing and networking, some fully absorbed in the Debate, many enjoying the jazzy tunes from local favorite, Flo Anito belting out originals such as “Uh Oh!” and “Man of the Year” from her amazing album “No Dustbunnies”

    We’ll have a big romance, straight off the silver screen

    We’ll have a picket fence and the lawn of Kelly Green.

    And I’ll sing my happy tune as I push my vacuum

    And I’ll dust every room, you won’t find no dust bunnies.

    “Thank you all so much for being here,” Flo expressed her gratitude as she took a moment to address the crowd. “Your energy is infectious, and it’s an honor to be part of such an exciting event. Let’s keep the spirit high and the music flowing!” With a beaming smile, she launched into another soulful melody, enchanting the audience with her captivating voice. When Flo sang, there were shades of Adele and Regina Spektor, and she created something new that captivated the audience.

    Jim clapped exuberantly. “You were superb Flo. You should do more political functions. You’ve brought excitement to a boring debate.”

    The turnout was extraordinary. It helped greatly that our event got a lot of play in the Wall Street Journal, D.C.ist, and other local media. For many Millennials, they were still in high school when Obama won the election and their vote would be critical in deciding the dynamics of the election.

    When it was Trump’s turn to talk, he was greeted with a cacophony of boos.

    “No way, will Donald Trump win the GOP nomination,” Mike Araman remarked. 

    A random intern chimed in, expressing their disapproval. “He’s a racist, sexist, ignorant, and divisive,” they remarked, mirroring the sentiments of many at the gathering.

    Mike leaned forward, his eyes reflecting a mixture of excitement and concern. “You know, guys, this election season is turning out to be quite a show. Trump’s surge in the GOP has certainly made this race far more interesting. But whether he goes up against Hillary or if Joe Biden decides to enter the race, we’re in for a fascinating political showdown.”

    The room fell into contemplative silence for a moment as everyone absorbed Mike’s words, knowing that the future held many uncertainties and potential twists in the political journey they were all embarking upon.

    Jim chimed in, “These debates and events are essential in shaping the public’s perception of the candidates. It’s not just about the candidates themselves; it’s also about the voters and what they want to see in their leaders. That’s why events like this one are crucial in the lead-up to the election. They provide a platform for discussing the issues that matter to the people.”

    Jim had a remarkable knack for always offering witty and pertinent comments at precisely the right moments. He had an inherent ability to infuse both humor and insight into his discussions, creating an engaging atmosphere for everyone present. Jim’s passion for politics shone through in his clever remarks, leaving no doubt about his deep appreciation for the political process.

    “We kept the roof open for folks to enjoy the breathtaking views and then return downstairs for the food, fun, and mingling,” 

    Evan noted. “We managed to set a record for the number of attendees in our first year here in Shaw, and it was truly heartening to see people from all corners of the city choosing Cambria for such a historic event.”

    As the debate unfolded, it became evident who the true winners were that night – our dedicated events team, the exceptional talent, the fantastic hotel (of course), and the passionate D.C. politicos, everyone but Trump.

    Jim and I left that evening with a shared determination to continue hosting engaging political events in the run-up to the elections. While the dynamics of the race were uncertain, one thing was crystal clear: the political landscape was undergoing significant changes, and the upcoming election season promised to be historic and full of surprises. The question remained: would Trump secure the GOP nomination, and would he face off against Hillary, or perhaps Joe Biden would enter the race, making it even more unpredictable?

  • Taste of Ireland

    Taste of Ireland

    After the summer doldrums and fall foliage blanketed the National Mall, things began to pick up at the old neighborhood pub that flew Irish colors over by the Chinatown arch.

    The Oregon Ducks were ranked in the Top 10 in the AP Poll and District Karaoke debuted with weekly sing-a-longs every Monday night (that was until guests at the adjoining Fairfield Inn complained about the racket).  All of this hubbub plus the viewing of each NFL game every Sunday resulted in a lot of commotion at the Irish Channel.

    In Sept, we organized a food tasting event where we invited friends to meet up and sample delicious Irish cuisine. 

    Top foodspotter, Dan Rosenstein, photographed the dishes for RUNINOut and was happy to shoot for some grub and a pint. “I love Irish food, and I love photographing people enjoying a pint of Guinness.

    The event was arranged by General Manager, Colin Laverty who has lived in D.C. for 13 years.  He grew up in West Belfast during the 80s and remembers distinctly the car bombings and revenge killings. 

    “I’ve enjoyed my time in D.C. tremendously. Belfast was also a great life experience and my memories of my time with my family and friends are always close to my heart.”

    “How is Belfast similar or different from the Beltway?”

    “Some people tell me parts of D.C. is tough. They don’t realize that for 30 years, Northern Ireland was scarred by sectarian violence — a period of time we sadly refer to as ‘the Troubles.’”

    “Yes, that was a very troubling time. I had the pleasure to visit Northern Ireland in 2011 to see two musician friends who I met at the Folklife Fest in D.C. I also met an inspirational tour guide named Arthur McGee.”

    “Really, why was he so great?”

    “Because he told me that Belfast isn’t a byword for intolerance, but a beacon for hope. The Irish are no different from any other place on earth. They’re the products of circumstances and history, and the same problems that existed in Belfast apply everywhere.”

    “You’re right about that.  Police brutality, such as the RUC (Royal Ulster Constabulary) supported by British troops, happens today in the US and around the world. There’s still a lot of hatred and racism that we need to get rid of.”

    “Glad to hear that the future looks rosy for Northern Ireland.”

    “The violence has gone away, but the rates of youth suicides in Belfast are high and rising every year.”

    Dan Rosestein (right)

    “The best bangers and mash, I’ve ever had,” said Dan Rosenstein. “I’m not a big sausage person, but the black pudding made my mouth water.”

    Behind the bar was Cormac McGrady, a tall, gregarious man from County Down.  He had a great sense of humor and always had time for a joke, even at his own expense.  He was a big Boston Red Sox fan and never missed a game if they were playing the Nats in D.C. or the Orioles in Baltimore.

    Tom and Colin were delighted with the large turnout, and they were inclined to dole out free food and specials for future events.  I wasn’t paid in dollars, euros or pounds, but compensated with a generous bar tab which even made me feel more part of the family.  

    “You guys did a great job,” said Tom. “Would like for you to visit our other Irish Channel location in Crofton, Maryland.”

    Colin Laverty (right)

    “You should support our next fundraiser,” said Colin.

    “Another food tasting or karaoke?”

    “No the Belfast-Beltway Boxing Project — it’s an annual, amateur boxing competition for at-risk youth in D.C. and Belfast. The youth train at area boxing facilities under the direction of the local coaching staff, tour the region, and spend time with the host families.”

  • Raqs Baladi

    Raqs Baladi

    On November 11, 2013, Super Typhoon Haiyan slammed into the Philippines causing massive loss of life and a trail of destruction in its wake. Battering the archipelago with wind gusts of up to 168 mph, it was the deadliest cyclone on record.  I, along with my expanding network of Fil-Am friends watched in horror as the island nation struggled to bury the dead and deliver food, water, and medicine to the suffering.

    So I was encouraged with hope when I got a call from my veteran friend, Kim “Dancing Queen,” a self-proclaimed musical arts fanatic, foodie and lover of anything Asian, particularly Cantonese.

    “Have you ever visited Medaterra in Woodley Park?”

    “Afraid not. I normally stay close to downtown. I don’t venture that far north on Connecticut Ave.”

    “Well can you please reach out to the owner, Angela? She wants to host a fundraiser for the Philippines typhoon relief, and I thought you would be the perfect choice to spearhead it.”

    “I’m deeply honored that you would help out. I will contact her first thing.”

    Angela was happy that I agreed to spearhead a fundraiser.  “Post an ad on Facebook. Let them know that 50% of proceeds of food and drink will be donated to AMCROSS.”

    Angela and I also reached out to all the Filipino-American groups as well to a vast variety of meetups in the area, and we were delighted that over 100 people came to dine and donate money. By the end of the night, we had raised $1,200 for the American Red Cross, and Angela Aly was thrilled. “The event was enormous, and you executed like a champ.”

    “My heartfelt thanks to you for offering your space and amazing specials. I appreciate Kim for reaching out to me and my gratitude for everyone who showed up and provided unconditional support.”

    “Yes, the donations will help tremendously and we’ll keep praying for the victims for basic supplies, comfort, and healing.”

    “Without a doubt. Say, so how’s your cafe doing? Do you get a lot of foot traffic at lunch and after work?”

    “Some, but the young folks prefer to hang out on U St, H St, and 14th St nowadays.”

    “Well, lemme see how I can help you. We’re pretty skilled at leveraging social media so we can place butts in seats for those strolling casually down Connecticut Ave.” 

    The following week, I pitched camp at the Mediterranean bistro taking pictures of dishes and featuring them on the website.  In my free time, I would ride my pedicab through Woodley Park, picking up riders who didn’t want to walk the half-mile uphill from the Metro to the Smithsonian Zoo.  Connecticut Ave is lined with restaurants and sidewalk cafes and there was plenty of foot traffic after work and on weekends.

    I also took the opportunity to visit neighboring restaurants in the rustic enclave including the Lebanese Taverna, Open City, and the Afghan Grill. Woodley Park was a small village bounded by Rock Creek Park and the zoo.  But it was an international hamlet with ethnic cuisines from all corners of the world.

    The Lebanese Taverna serves classic, Mediterranean cuisine in a modern, contemporary setting.  In 1976, Tanios and Marie Abi-Najm boarded a cargo ship in the dead of night with their five children to escape the civil war in Lebanon.  After working at local restaurants for three years, they saved enough money to purchase the Athenian Taverna in the Westover neighborhood in Arlington, VA. They made a modification in the sign to read Lebanese Taverna and the rest is history.  Today, the business has bloomed to six restaurants, four cafes, and a market and deli.

    The chicken shawarma was roasting on the pit with onions and cherry tomatoes embedded in between slices to give it a juicy flavor.  As the inverted cone of meat turned slowly on the rotisserie, the chef deftly sliced thin shavings from the outer layer to make the crowd favorite, doner kebab.

    At the bar, a stylishly chic couple started off with the bread – a football-shaped pita of hot, chewy goodness which they dipped in hummus with the right amount of tahini and olive oil.

    Then as an appetizer, they ordered shawarma sliders with hot slices of lamb stuffed inside a soft pillow of bread.

    The entree was braised lamb shank with white wine, the tender chunks were falling off the bone.  They made room for dessert — baklava, phyllo dough stacked with honey, and pistachios to cap off a perfect meal.

    I sat at the bar and ordered an Almaza, a mild and smooth Pilsner brewed and bottled in Lebanon.

    [ Image: Screen Shot 2022-02-05 at 1.33.17 AM.png ]

    Lebanese Taverna bar

    I visited the manager, Charlie Ayoub. “What’s RUNINOut, and how do I know you’re some fly-by-night operation.”

    “Well, we have hundreds of thousands of users in the D.C. area and we were just selected ‘Best of D.C.’ in the Readers’ poll.”

    “How good are you with managing events?”

    “Well, we just organized a fundraiser at Medaterra across the street and raised $1,200.”

    “Alrighty, hot shot. Let’s see if you can arrange an Arabian nights themed party for us.”

    I looked at Charlie wide-eyed and baffled. Did he want fire dancers, sword jugglers, snake handlers?  Perhaps I could ask some of the folks from the drum circle in Meridian Hill Park to participate.  We can set up henna art and have tarot card readings.  Maybe I’ll bring Apollo and have him fly to different customers and eat their pita bread dipped in olive oil.

    “Oh certainly, Charlie, there’s no event no matter how wild or exotic that I can’t handle.”

    “Super, traditional Arab folk music with Raqs Baladi please.”

    I immediately called Sonia Herrero.

    “Raqs Baladi—that’s Egyptian belly dancing,” she informed me with a chuckle.

    “Well can you help out a hopeless fellow? I’ll let you take Georgia out for a hike.”

    “Would love to, but I just started a new job at the Department of Education, so I can’t commit right now.” However, I would love to see Apollo.”

    “Cool, let’s make a date to go biking, and he’ll tag along.”

    “Nope, busy.”

    “Well, we got the EU Embassy Run in May, and all the Embassies love to see Apollo.”

    Next, I called Angela and briefed her on my meeting with Charlie. 

    “Don’t stress out. I’ve got the perfect solution for you.” 

    She wrote down a name and number on the back of the menu. “Asala, call her, see if she’s available.”

    I dialed the number with trepidation. 

    “Hello, who’s this?”

    “Umm, this is Angela’s friend from the Medeterra. Do you know anything about an Arabian Nights performance at the Lebanese Taverna?”

    “Wait, are you the fella riding the pedicab up and down H St during the summer Fest?

    “Yes, the one with the squawking parrot that matches the color of your veil.”

    “Certainly, I would be happy to dance at your event. As long as you’re able to make the arrangements behind the scenes.” 

    Raqs Baladi is an Egyptian dance that originated several hundred years ago performed by ordinary countrymen and women during gatherings and celebrations. Women moved core body parts like the spine, abdomen, pelvis, and legs helping them to develop core strength and a healthy reproductive system. People were enthralled by seeing the women move their hips, so the dance took off, spreading all across the middle-east and into India.

    Jennie “Asala El Masri” discovered belly dancing in 2003 after enduring a knee injury from high school sports.  Belly dancing served as an excellent therapy as she developed her core. Today she still loves sports but has found that dancing feeds her passion for movement and music.  Her performances remain in high demand, and she has performed for a wide range of venues including festivals and embassies.

    It was definitely my responsibility to market the event to bring a decent turnout. Asala didn’t dance for free, and it was my job to bring in enough revenue to ensure her happiness. I, on the other hand, worked for a pat on the back and an open tab.  The golden Almaza pilsners were refreshing and crisp and they always paired nicely with shawarmas and doner kebobs — I ate like a sultan and drank like a commodore.

    And when the lights dimmed, and the majestic mejance chimed, Asala emerged from behind the red curtains, moving deftly like an eloquent diva.  Her giant wings made for a truly dramatic entrance eliciting accolades from the enthralled guests. Each instrumental note hummed in unison with the elegant strides of her toned core and her undulating belly.

    We continued every Thursday night in April, hoping the word would spread quickly and her magical allure would entire millenials in droves. Her costume was consistently glamorous and her choreography flawless. And with the succulent Lebanese cuisine and Charlie’s hospitality — I felt sure we had all the right components for a huge hit.

    True to form, she readily got diners to rise on their feet and celebrate this ancient art form from Mesopotamia. And Asala interacted remarkably well, displaying her elegant smile and keeping the audience entertained and captivated with a sensation of enigma and glamour.

    Perhaps there was no other night where her prowess was on display than on April 13.  If no courageous soul rose to the floor, Asala would pick an innocent victim. From the corner of her eye, she saw a nice gentleman smiling and seemingly enjoying himself.  So she went over to tie her veil around his head, only to notice that he was wearing a priest uniform. Charlie gasped. Asala glanced over and caught his expression and dreaded catching his wrath after the show.  Surprisingly, everyone else seemed to get a kick out the entrapment and many thought that she had planned it out from the beginning.

    All the online reviews for the food, service and performance were glowing, but sadly, the attendance continued to be sparse.  Very few mainstream Washingtonians were fans of this exotic art or were willing to drive up to sleepy hollow to participate. Instead, they congregated at the more popular hub: H Street, 14th Street, Adams Morgan, and Dupont Circle at the hip hop lounges swaying to the familiar beat of go-go, funk and R&B.

    My immediate reaction was to call Jackie Woodbury for another lifeline.  Maybe Wayne Manigo could infuse the show with light-hearted laughter.  We even discussed having Asala dance to classic rock — an idea that was immediately shot down by Charlie. But if we didn’t draw a large enough crowd, he would be scrap the rest of the shows.

  • President’s Bar Comics

    President’s Bar Comics

    Nicole Foster was the wet behind the ears Marketing Manager trying to drum up new clientele for the President’s Sports Bar at the Renaissance Hotel in the Penn Quarter.

    So when I got a call from the Marriott, requesting our services, I wasn’t about to turn it down.

    As I walked around the expansive lobby, I noticed how drab, gray, and uninviting it was.  The only customers I saw in the President’s Sports Bar were mindless tourists in tees and lobbyists in suits sealing deals over after-work cocktails.  There were pictures of Kennedy swinging a golf club in Hyannis Port and Reagan in Camp David with Prime Minister Thatcher.  There were no pictures of Nixon, but there sure was plenty inside Room 214 at the Watergate building where G. Gordon Liddy directed the infamous break-in of the DNC headquarters, erupting into a major political scandal.


    The President’s Sports Bar

    At the mahogany wooden bar, a power broker ordered a Watergate: Maker’s Mark, Grand Marnier, Myer’s Dark rum, sugar, bitters, pineapple, and ginger.  He’s trying his best to avoid the pitfalls that ensnarled Casino Jack Abramoff, owner of the infamous Signatures Restaurant down the road.  The diplomatic presence was so strong that at any moment I could imagine Kevin Spacey playing Congressman Frank Underwood emerging from the VIP dining room uttering his most fallacious quote “The road to power is paved with hypocrisy and casualties.”

    “So what did you have in mind Nicole?”

    “Well, we’re an old bureaucratic town rooted deep in tradition, so maybe target Young Gov Leaders or D.C. Young Republicans.”

    “You’re kidding me. The Renaissance already has its unwavering patronage.  Let’s shoot for something totally radical and out of the blue”

    I called my friend, Wayne Manigo, to see if he could arrange a standup show with the area’s best comedians.

    “Why comedy?” Nicole asked puzzled and perturbed.

    “Cuz people here are so uptight, they need to take the edge off.  And comedy relating to the vibrant restaurant industry and addressing the political environment is the perfect panacea for healing.”


    Wayne Manigo

    WayneManigo

    “You know, living in D.C. is like being in a never-ending game of political chess, where every move is a debate and ‘compromise’ is that one piece you lost under the sofa. That’s why we’ve brought in comedy tonight – it’s like finding that lost chess piece, but instead of putting it back on the board, we throw it out the window and laugh about it!”

    The audience chuckled, and Wayne continued, “And don’t worry, the only thing we’ll be staining at the Marriott tonight is your memory with good jokes. We’re keeping it clean – so clean, you could serve dinner on our punchlines and still pass a health inspection.”

    “I kicked off the Comedy Writers Group in 2011, because let’s face it, a joke unshared is like a politician who doesn’t tweet – it just doesn’t make an impact. Comedy’s a team sport; without someone to laugh, a joke’s just a sentence with too much attitude.”

    “The Fabulous Fat Doctor Blagmon held his comedy classes with us at Judy’s Bar & Restaurant. Fat Doctor Blagmon always said, ‘Write in your journal every day. Even if all you’ve got is ‘I’ve got nothing,’ scribble that down. It’s like a placeholder for your future genius – or your future grocery list. Either way, you’re winning.’”

    “My idol, Richard Pryor, was a master at mixing comedy with tragedy. Kind of like a chef who mixes sweet and sour, except instead of a dish, you get a life story. And in my case, let’s just say my life’s recipe is one part comedy, two parts ‘Oops!’, and a sprinkle of ‘Did that really happen?’.”

    “Back in the day, I was the go-to IT wizard at the SEC. You know, Securities and Exchange Commission, where the only securities I was exchanging were sleep for stress. My life was a series of night calls, like a superhero, except my superpower was rebooting routers at 3 AM. I got so good at navigating the dark, I thought about moonlighting as a burglar.

    But, like any sensible person who finds themselves whispering sweet nothings to a modem at 2 in the morning, I had an epiphany. So, I quit, embracing freedom… a little too enthusiastically, it seems. Before I knew it, my new office had four wheels, and my home address was ‘various locations in Northern Virginia’.

    Living out of my car, I became a nomad with a library card. Reston, Rockville, Falls Church – I was the only guy doing a library tour without a book signing. And let me tell you, nothing says ‘I’ve made it’ like waking up to a view of the Reston Public Library.

    Visiting friends in D.C. became a special operation. My car tags expired, making my vehicle as welcome in the city as a skateboard in Congress. So, I’d park in another state and take the Metro in, like an international commuter.

    And here’s a pro tip for you: the key to seamless urban camping is to never look like you’ve just rolled out of a tent. I mastered the art of looking casually homeless – it’s all about the ‘business casual’ homeless chic.

    Falling down became my weekly exercise. It’s amazing how a public stumble turns you into a stand-up comedian. You learn to laugh it off, mostly to assure bystanders you haven’t broken anything expensive, like your pride.

    Through it all, I found the secret to a stress-free life: inner peace, zen, and the unshakable belief that if I can handle a conference call while parked outside a Starbucks for free Wi-Fi, I can handle anything.

    So, here’s to the journey from IT help desk to helping myself. Turns out, the biggest reboot I needed was for my own life. And maybe, just maybe, the real securities were the friends we made along the way. No? Just me? Alright then.”

    Comedy:

    “In my latest adventure, I’ve taken on the role of Comedy Entrepreneur, which is like being a regular entrepreneur but with better jokes and slightly worse financial planning. My mission? To turn D.C. into the comedy capital of the world. Move over, politics; it’s time for punchlines.

    Our approach is simple but revolutionary. We target bars on their quietest nights, you know, when they’re just one sad song away from becoming a country music cliché. We walk in and say, ‘Hey, how would you like us to pack this place with laughter and customers? No, this isn’t a joke, but we do have plenty of those.’

    We kicked things off at Recessions Bar, because what better place to start a comedy revolution than a spot named after economic downturns? Our concept is ‘Comedy x 10’ – featuring ten different comedians each week. By the end of the month, that’s 40 comedians, each with their unique brand of humor. That’s not just a comedy show; it’s a comedy marathon with a sprinter’s pace.

    Think about it: where else can you hear 40 different takes on life, politics, and why pizza is the perfect breakfast food? Our shows offer a smorgasbord of perspectives, ensuring that if one joke doesn’t land for you, the next one might just be your new favorite.

    This model doesn’t just breathe life into slow nights; it creates a vibrant, dynamic community hub. We’re not just filling seats; we’re creating an ecosystem where comedians thrive, bars flourish, and audiences get their weekly dose of serotonin. It’s a win-win-win, the trifecta of entrepreneurial success.

    Our vision is to make D.C. not just the capital of the country, but the comedy capital as well. A place where laughter drowns out the noise of politics, if only for a night. So, if you’re looking for a revolution, join us. After all, in D.C., we’re used to uprisings – but this time, we’re rising up in laughter.”

    Chef:

    So did you know that I’m a part-time chef? Chefs Jared Thomas and his mentor Marianne from D.C. Central Kitchens trained me. They had a powerful way to inspire me and made me fall in love with cooking.  Chef Jared has also spoken to the Comedy Writers Group at Judy’s a few times, and he’s not only inspirational but funny.

    In fact, he moved me to create a character called ‘Bottom Chef’ for a comedy contest at Hightopps Restaurant in Timonium, MD. My outfit is a chef’s jacket with a logo similar to the ‘Top Chef’ design. Here are some of my jokes:

    I start my food prep each day with a ritual — raise my shot glass and yell “Bottoms Up!”

    “My culinary education took place behind bars, in the unforgiving confines of a vegan prison. Ever been trapped in a relationship with a vegan? That’s freedom compared to vegan jail.”

    “You don’t truly earn the title of ‘Bottom Chef’ until you’ve experienced the culinary depths of ‘Rock Bottom.’ My mentor? Chef Boy-R-Dee. His philosophy? A man, a plan, a can.”

    “The city of Buffalo sued me for defamation of their wings.”

    “In the heated world of culinary arts, Chef Gordon Ramsay isn’t the pioneer of kitchen meltdowns. I’ve been perfecting the art of the scream long before it was televised. ‘Threaten me with prison again, and it’s not the food that’ll get chopped.’”

    “I once ascended to dubious fame as the face of Spam. Remember, Spam isn’t just for dinner; it’s a last resort. If the dog turns its nose up, you know it’s yours.”

    “As ‘Bottom Chef,’ I’ve innovated the cooking process by pre-ruining your meal. Why wait? I’ll splatter the food directly into your toilet.”

    “These days, my signature dishes are anything that can be drowned in hot sauce and red wine. It’s a delicate culinary balance—some for the pan, more for the chef.”

    Amidst the trials of trying every new restaurant in town, I’ve realized perhaps my most needed culinary tool isn’t a spatula—it’s a personal trainer. As Orlando Darden playfully noted, “It might be time to cut back on the beer.” His comment, met with roaring laughter, reminded us all that the essence of good comedy, like good cooking, lies in its relatability and the joy it brings to those who partake in it.

    The room was filled with laughter, and Nicole couldn’t help but enjoy the comic relief that Wayne was providing. She leaned back in her chair, more relaxed than before. Next was Leon Scott, a Comedian, Writer and Journalist for WUSA-9 CBS.


    Leon Scott

    Next was Leon Scott, a Comedian, Writer, and Journalist for WUSA-9 CBS.

    What’s going on? How’s everyone doing? Feel good, Well I feel great and lemme tell you why.  I got the best back-handed compliment I ever got in my life.  I was out and this tall woman walked up to me and said ‘You concentrated sexy.’ That’s like saying just add water and you become 6’5″. I’ve never felt that tall in my life.

    My best friend Rome is 6’5″, and he always says things that takes being tall for granted. He would say ‘Man, being tall doesn’t help me meet women.’  And his voice is tall.

    That’s a lie cuz I’ve never had a woman come up to me and say. ‘So I saw the top of your head from across the room.”

    But being short hasn’t stopped me from going on TV. I just gotta sound tall. Speaking about news media, would like to introduce the next segment — Real Time with Bill Maher.

    Dan Verkman

    Hi, I’m Dan Verkman, but everyone tells me I look like Bill and they say it in a way like I’ve never heard it before.

    “Do you know who you look like?” or “Anyone ever tell you who you look like?” Yeah only for the umpteenth time today. Now buzz off.

    I do get a lot of people checking me out like I’m so kind of a weirdo. Unless they yell ‘Bill’, I’m never sure why they’re staring. Do I have a big booger in my nose, is my hair sticking up, is my fly down?

    Doctor’s Office:

    One time I was checking if for a doctor’s visit and I overheard an older married couple talking. “Hey, that guy looks like that comedian guy from TV,” the husband says. Then, a couple of minutes later you hear him say, “even acts like him too. A real jerk”

    Then after filling out my paperwork and I sit down, he leans over to ask me. “Ever hear of a TV personality named Bill Maher?”

    I looked at him like he was from outer space. “Who the hell is he?” Sometimes it’s smart to play dumb.

    Supermarket:

    Then there’s the moment I was going through the checkout counter at the supermarket, and the cashier says, “You know who you look like..?”

    “Yes!” I responded hoping she won’t press me further.

    “I’ve seen you in line before, you have a home in the DMV, don’t you..?”

    “Ah, yeah.”

    “Well, who’s doing the cooking?”

    “The writers,” I responded hoping she would realize that I was just pulling her leg.

    “You’re gonna mention me on your show aren’t you?

    “Only if you don’t charge me the county bag fee.”

    “You kidding with the millions you have, you could buy the entire store.”

    I can’t even walk down main street any city, without someone yelling from their car.

    “Hey Bill, saw you on TV last night. Love your show.”

    Speed Dating:

    But I’m not complaining. Looking like Bill has gotten me a lot of perks. Went on a speed dating event the other night where I was told by 10 different girls “Did anyone ever tell you who you look like?”

    One girl asked, “What do you do?”

    “I make people laugh.”

    “Are you a comedian?”

    “No, I write code.”

    Tattoo Bar:

    Afterward, I went to the Tattoo Bar up the street and was approached by 3 hot chics who asked for a pic. The bar manager then said, “Name it, you got it.” Then a tough-looking dude approached and said “You really him? You look different on TV.”

    Metro:

    On the metro ride to a show one night, two Black guys approached and said “Anyone ever tell you, you look like Freddy Krueger?” I know Bill can be evil, but that’s pretty extreme.

    After the show, two Black girls called out from an Audi.

    “Bill Maher!”

    “Yes, better than Freddy.”

    “You wanna smoke a bowl with us?”

    The audience clapped hands. Someone yelled “Bill has jungle fever you know. Play the role.”

    Karaoke:

    I sing karaoke, and sometimes I put my name in as Bill M. One girl thought I was Bill Murray and had me autograph her forearm.

    One hot blonde came over and nearly sat on my lap and whispered “I know who you are.”

    “How was she in bed?” someone chuckled.

    Let’s just say, I played the role that night.

    Art Show:

    One time I was at an art show in Bethesda when I met Anne Currie from the Today show. And she asked what I was doing here.

    In a somewhat inebriated state from all the free wine they were serving, I told her I was in town for the White House Correspondents Dinner. — I had just overheard it was the next day just a few minutes earlier.

    I think she actually believed me cuz I can play the role of a journalist pretty convincingly.

    House of Cards:

    Did you know I auditioned for the journalist role on House of Cards? They had me read three roles, all political pundits. The first role was as a Glen Beck guy. Everybody auditioning was a real reporter. The guy who auditioned before me was Jamie McIntyre from CNN. He said to me while we were in the waiting room “You know, you look quite familiar.”

    So now you can add a new title to my resume — Bill M. the actor.

    The audience gave Dan a standing ovation. “You should write a book about this!” Wayne suggested. “It’ll be an N.Y. Times Bestseller”

    At the end of the night, Nicole came over and gave me a pat on the shoulder. 

    I turned around and said, “So comedy night was a smashing success. We were able to reach out to the young millennials who love to meet, laugh and drink. We should do a sequel.”

    “Are you kidding me, some of these jokes were downright raunchy. Wayne was inspiring, but some of the standups really bombed it. And Dan may be Bill’s doppelganger, but I’m not interested in hearing about his sexcapades. Tonight, you’ve embarrassed the Marriott name. JW himself would turn over in his grave.”

    Wayne shook his head and grimaced. “So I guess there won’t be a part deux.”

    “Yup back to the ole drawing board,” I lamented.


    9 Comics & a Monkey at the Renaissance Hotel Standup

  • Pedicabber

    Pedicabber

    The following weekend, Zach and I were in my Subaru Baja, driving at full speed on the N.J. Turnpike to NYC.  

    “Why are we driving up to the Big Apple just to pick up a damn rickshaw?” Zach asked incredulously. “Segways are all the rage on the Mall.”

    “So we can hang signage promoting our brand and ride it all over town like a taxi cab.”

    “Can’t you just buy one in D.C.?”

    “There’s a premium for these three-wheeled wonders in the metro area. But in NYC, where their popularity was spurred, there’s a superabundance.”

    Many tourists choose to ride the pedicabs instead of taking a bus or taxi because it allows them to observe the surroundings better and because the bikes can squeeze through heavy traffic. And sure enough, as soon as we crossed the Lincoln Tunnel, the busy streets of Manhattan were congested with taxis, bikes, scooters, and pedestrians. One pedicab driver just purchased a medallion to own a taxi and was selling his weaning out of the travel destination business. He was happy to let it go for $1800, and I was delighted to take it off his hands. We deftly squeezed the pedaled contraption on the bed of my Baja and with the handlebars hanging over carried it home to greener pastures. When we landed at the Mall and took her on a spin-down Constitution, she looked like a Lamborghini basked in sunshine.  

    “I will dub her Lil Yellow.”

    “Yes, she looks sleek and shiny and will definitely turn some heads.”

    “She’s not just for advertising. She’s to make a few bucks, and you’re welcome to ride Lil so you can earn extra beer money. How else is a scavenging Colonial supposed to survive? I know it sucks to be a non-paid intern.”

    “Yes getting paid with cheeseburgers and subs gets old after a while. Yes, I’ll love to take her on a spin after class and see if I can coerce some stray tourists to pile on.”

    “Sounds like a plan. And don’t forget we’re not licensed to charge a fare but can easily take donations.”

    “Super, I’ll bring along my school work which I can tackle when there’s a lull.”

    “Yes, please use your time wisely, and take the opportunity to learn more about the history and landmarks so you can better inform and entertain your guests.”

    When Zach was parked at the green zone in front of the American History Museum, he spotted a pretty Persian girl with long brown hair and knee-high socks. Tall and tanned, she looked like a supermodel on wheels, and it was evident that she was passionate about her mission.

    Her name is Shaadi, and she was a former elementary school teacher turned into an enterprising rockstar.

    “How did you get into this business dominated by jocks, vets, and hippies?”

    “Well, I got into an accident, and doctors found a tumor in my left leg. They removed it, and the tumor returned. When I was rehabbing on a stationary bike, it was challenging to have my right leg get my other leg to go around. So I made a pact with myself. ‘The day I can ride my bike again, I’m gonna ride for 50 miles, and I’m not gonna stop.’”

    Shaady took Zach under her wings and got him up to speed on the history and background of this fledgling business.

    Last summer, the Park Police started cracking down on pedicabbers on the Mall. They claimed we were cutting into the Tourmobile monopoly that the National Park Service had a long-term contract with. An operator was attempting to pick up customers in front of the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum when he was tased, tackled, and arrested.

    “Damn, that’s harsh. So the Park Police Gestapo felt threatened, so they started suppressing our Eco-Friendly business model.” 

    “Yes, we’ve come to a truce now. I love your silly monkey logo, by the way. I’ve got six pedicabs and would love to advertise your brand on our backs.”

    “Love how environmentally friendly this is,” stated a tourist from Maine. “Summer days are just roasting, and we’re too exhausted to walk up and down the Mall. Take your time and tell us all you know about the spots.”

    When Zach wasn’t using the cab to shuttle tourists, Lil Yellow was employed during multiple events such as Taste of D.C., where we interacted with various vendors such as the Cupcakes Lounge. The multi-day culinary event along Pennsylvania Ave attracted some of the region’s best restaurants and lively entertainment.

    People loved the thrill of the ride and they loved posing and shooting selfies. Even met a young, newlywed couple who deemed it quite romantic and were found smooching in the back.

    “Are we allowed to drink inside the cab?” a passenger asked meekly.

    “I don’t see why not. The only stipulation is that the driver can’t drink. But please buckle up.”

    During our reconnaissance and cold calls with Suzannah, I would drive the pedicab and she would sit in the back waving at dumbfounded passersby. From time to time, we would pick up a sightseer or a tipsy passenger bar crawling along H Street.  Lil Yellow was our lucky charm. We were able to negotiate business with Biergarten Haus on H St., Ulah on U St., and Jake’s American Grille in Chevy Chase.

    Our pedicab and signage got a lot of attention, and we were invited to provide complimentary rides during the H Street Festival, the quintessential 10-block street party featuring live music, karaoke stages, live music, and yes, even belly dancing.  

    It was a sweltering, hot day, and many people were tired of having to walk from 3rd to 14th street. My illustrious intern agreed to provide rides as long as I provided refreshments and he kept all the tips.

    When we weren’t providing rides, guests enjoyed using our cab as a photo op, and we were happy to oblige. 

    Every year, the British-themed double-decker bus would be parked in front of The Queen Vic where Newcastle Brown Ale flowed like the River Thames.

    There was a half-pipe for local skateboarders. Dangerously Delicious Pies sponsored a hands-free pie-eating contest and the grungy ex-funeral parlor turned lounge, Rock and Roll Hotel, pumped music all day.

    Zach and I got to meet so many people — tourists, locals, business owners, and artists. One gifted performer specialized in Egyptian belly dance, and she was quite a ravishing entertainer. Dressed in a red chiffon hip scarf, the Arabian beauty swayed her hips and shimmied her body rhythmically to the cheering audience’s delight. I didn’t catch her name, but I promised to introduce myself the next time I see on stage.

    There were also tons of local artists such as Pete Baker, and Flo Anito was strumming her guitar, singing her tongue-in-cheek ballad to the vacuum “No Dustbunnies.”

    Flo is a classically trained vocalist and pianist and sang like a blue jay on a hot summer day.

    The H St Fest was the best block party in town. There were tons of people and lots of random conversations. It was the best marketing event we could dream of and the word was definitely getting out that RUNINOut was about rides.

    In the Fall, we provided support at the Marine Corps Marathon cheering runners and even offering free rides to spectators or exhausted runners who wanted to beat the  (14th street) bridge. Runners had to maintain a 14 min/mile pace until mile 22 or else they would be taken off the course and bussed back.

    The ending was great with Marines in their BDUs shouting “Oorah” and handing out the coveted Eagle, Globe and Anchor finisher medals. There were tons of photo-op moments, and we all had a blast, especially Kanita, who lost her voice screaming and cheering. 

    “The pedicab is great for marketing. You should take her on a spin on Halloween night and get more people to come aboard,” she suggested.

    One thing about the intelligent mind of a great attorney — she was always a source of great ideas. And so was my reliable sidekick, Suzannah.

    “I have an idea for an event.” Suzannah said. “Hold a reelection night party for Obama at the Rocket Bar in Chinatown.”

    And November 6, 2012, President Obama and his running mate Joe Biden had easily gotten reelected and the GOP, it seemed, had become the grand old party of the past.

  • Prayers for Nepal

    Prayers for Nepal

    May 12, 2015

    The views at the Georgetown waterfront were busy with paddle boarders launching from the Key Bridge Boathouse and lunchers enjoying the open patio seating at Sequoia and Tony & Joe’s Seafood Place. Bikers were crisscrossing the Capital Crescent trail on their way to Bethesda or Cabin John. Runners and strollers were enjoying the historic C&O Canal stopping at the numerous bakeries and coffee shops to grab a bite or to enjoy the rich, sweet aroma.

    While kids were splish-splashing in the fountain and grown-ups were getting their feet wet, Sunita Amatya was sitting on the side of the river, praying for the thousands of lives lost thousands of miles away.

    On April 25, 2015, a 7.6 magnitude earthquake struck the city of Kathmandu in central Nepal killing 9,000 people, affecting millions of lives, and causing $10 billion in damage.

    “May the tragic and devastating situation get better with Divine grace. May all five elements of the creation (earth, water, fire, space, and air) be balanced forever and will there be no more natural disasters,” she chanted towards her Supreme Deity.

    The common belief is that to experience enlightenment one must be quiet and sit motionlessly. But that couldn’t be further from the truth. Then as her prayers to Dharma were received, her devotion transformed to dance as hundreds of sightseers and gawkers were entranced by her majestic movements. But this was not a performance. Sunita was touching her dimension beyond her limited mind and body. It was an inner engineering language to express life energy while using the body as an instrument. 

    Suddenly out of the corner of her eye, she saw a spirited straggle of runners. Not just any runners that you would see spurting all over the pristine paths of D.C. But these exuberant runners were adorned in bright red Embassy Run shirts, matching their crimson red Nepali flags they were waving. The color symbolizes the brave spirits of the Nepalese people and the two triangular pennants represent the Himalaya Mountains and the two major religions: Hinduism and Buddhism.

    The astounding sight was too coincidental to be a coincidence. She quickly rose and with the enlightened spirit of Buddha followed the throng to a neighborhood saloon on Water Street called Mr. Smith’s.

    For a second, she wondered whether she belonged here. The pub was unassuming and low-key, and there she saw what seemed like a hundred road-weary warriors all dressed in crimson red, nursing a cold Dos Equis.

    “Saw you guys running by the waterfront. Are you running for Nepal?” she asked gingerly.

    “Absolutely, we’ve been running 13 miles and raising awareness for survivors of the earthquake,” I answered. “Are you from Nepal?”

    “Why yes, I was just at the park praying and dancing for the plight of our people. And Prince Shiva led me down this path to join your gathering.”

    “That’s quite poignant. We were devastated when we heard about the earthquake, and we wanted to use our run as a vehicle to raise awareness and funds.”

    “Then Prince Siddhartha answered my prayers. My son, Sudin, and I are also raising money for recovery and relief, but our efforts to date have fallen short.”

    “I think there are ways that we can collaborate. But first, tell me why dancing is so transformative.”

    “Dancing helps us purify our thoughts and heart and heals us from physical and mental pain. It’s to let God in and to let go of any negativity — to attain bliss.”

    “Wonderful, Audrey Pichmimi said. “Can you show us outside how you perform your dance?”

    [ Image: Sunita-dancing-in-Georgetown-1024×689.png ]

    Sunita showed us how to dance for enlightenment on the Georgetown Waterfront

    The following Thursday evening, a couple of dozen revelers, runners, and members of the Newah Organization of America (NOA) amassed at Courthaus Social in Arlington to honor the people of Nepal, discuss earthquake relief opportunities, and enjoy music and dance. 


    Sudin plays Sax @ Courthaus Social

    Sunita brought her talented son 16-year-old, Sudin who played the sax and sang traditional folk music. The music carried powerfully through the outdoor patio on a warm spring night, and many onlookers inquired about the cause — NOA was able to also receive generous donations from those who were deeply touched and wanted to show their support.

    We charged $20 for entry which included a wide selection of appetizers. Jackie was instrumental again, spreading the word and getting people to book the event through her site, Bookalokal

    Audrey, who was enamored with Sunita’s faith, returned to help raise money and to enjoy Nepali music.

    By the end of the night, we were able to present NOA with a check for $1,000

    Members of NOA receiving a donation from the Nepal Relief Fundraiser

    “We are extremely grateful for your spirit of generosity,” said Ram Shrestha, president of NOA. “We will be able to provide medical supplies and build temporary shelters with these funds.” 

    “Thank you very much,” Sunita said. “This divine circumstance proves that praying and dancing is indeed transformative.”

    “It’s our great pleasure, to serve a small part in this. I’m now a true believer in the power of spiritual dancing. My thoughts and prayers to the courageous people of Nepal.”

  • Postmates

    Postmates

    Winter 2015

    In the winter of 2014, Postmates roared into town with the promise of being able to deliver virtually anything to anyone in the District within an hour. They charged a 10% purchase fee and a nominal delivery fee based on the distance of which 80% went to the couriers.

    The app is commonly used for restaurant food but people have been known to purchase computers, groceries, you name it. The app works fairly well and the startup had received a hefty amount of funding to hire staff and rent office space.

    But the idea of on-demand delivery is neither new nor novel. Both Seamless and GrubHub were already dominating the industry in D.C. Most people who pay the price of a good meal prefer to enjoy the atmosphere that comes with it. A $50 Prime Rib from Del Frisco’s Steakhouse somehow doesn’t taste the same on foam and plastic as it does on china and silverware.

    So many of the food purchases are for franchises and fast food restaurants like Shake Shack, Chipotle, Potbelly, and McDonald’s — those with low prices and even smaller margins.

    The app is popular with college students who may not have the best spending habits. But college students don’t tip and couriers could make as little as $5 an hour especially if they have to wait in line and make an order — like Vapiano during rush hour. And how long will college students continue to use the app, when their parents find out that their spending habits and cut back on allowances.

    Jason Morenz had been delivering for Postmates since they arrived in D.C., and recommended I give it a try. Since I’m in the Restaurant food and customer relations business, I had to see it for myself. I signed up and attended the onboarding session. And just like that, I was hired — it was fast and easy. They didn’t even check to see if I knew the city, was in shape or I was really up to this task. As long as I didn’t have a criminal record, I was hired. 

    At first, it was fun. I got to see the city and visit new restaurants while getting a workout. The customers were nice but stingy on the tip, and there was definitely a lack of transparency on how much they tipped (since it was not readily known how much their tip was)

    After completing 10 orders successfully, the company started sending me two orders at a time and that’s when it started becoming a burden. And even if you want to do one order at a time, Postmates will keep pushing it, along with the most deafening beep requiring you to accept or reject.

    You almost want to accept a second order just to keep your phone from beeping. And you can’t turn the app off since you need to keep it on for directions to your customer.

    And since Postmates have invested a lot of resources in marketing, they have way more orders than they have couriers. So if you are scheduled or if you check in for duty — you will be bombarded with orders — some of them very challenging to complete within an hour.

    The orders that I regretted taking were for made-to-order restaurants like Vapiano that would not take orders over the phone. I had to travel to the location, wait in line for 30 minutes, order, pay, pick up the food, then travel to the customer. The entire job took over an hour but my fees plus tips amounted to less than the minimum wage of $10.50/hr.

    The obvious goal was to avoid taking orders that were time-consuming, had low margins, or would take me away from the city hub. Orders for deliveries to the northern corner of D.C. such as Friendship Heights also meant not finding another order for miles. I could cancel the order. But this would come with a penalty and a negative rating.

    Knowing which orders were attractive and which were the low-hanging fruit came with experience. Usually, the newer couriers were tricked into taking them. But eventually, word spread like wildfire. To incentivize couriers to accept unpopular orders, Postmates would offer a $50 bonus if you were able to complete 20 orders in a 48-hour period. The catch was that you would have to accept every order that was assigned. You no longer could swipe left on an order that you didn’t like.

    If you experienced any issues such as the order not being ready, or the customer not answering the phone, you could call customer service to iron things out. But after a while, the company outsourced their help desk and we would generally get a canned answer that didn’t seem to solve my problem.

    To take a break from taking orders, I would often check out of duty to pick up passengers. Very rarely did I do both at the same time, though it was entirely possible unless it was pizza in which my passenger would enjoy the smell of spicy pepperoni with melted cheese on hot pizza dough.

    Because the orders took us all over D.C., MD and VA, I would rotate my mode of transportation from my Subaru, bike, and pedicab. Unlike their competitors, Postmates would deliver virtually anything: clothing from Walmart, electronics, groceries, even pharmacy prescriptions. 

    At one time, I accepted an order to carry $20,000 worth of laptops, ten miles to Bethesda. Postmates knew I was driving my car, so they assigned me the order. The customer was shocked when I arrived since they had made the purchase from Apple and not Postmates. Apple just subcontracted the order to Postmates. Needless to say, I didn’t receive a tip.

    Many restaurants are not happy with Postmates doing their delivery since Postmates does not ask the restaurant for permission. They just link the restaurants’ menus to their site and charge the customer a steep delivery fee. Some restauranteurs are not happy because they don’t trust the couriers to handle their food properly, and if there is a complaint, it most likely will be directed to the restaurant.

    On April 4, 2015, I was riding my pedicab on M St NW transporting burgers from Thunder Burger, when I was struck from behind and suffered damage to my right rear wheel. The driver stopped and was apologetic, but did not have any insurance. My bike was out of order and I wasn’t able to deliver the meal. My rating score would take a hit, but at least I got a free burger.

    I got the wheel fixed and sent a copy of my bill to Postmates for compensation. I was surprised to hear from Stephan the local area manager that they would not cover my expenses.

    “What if I got hurt and needed medical care?” I asked.

    “You’re a 1099 independent contractor, not an employee,” Stephen replied harshly. “You’re on your own.”

    “If you enjoy delivery and want all the benefits of an employee, you should consider venturing into trucking,” Jason said. 

    “That’s absurd. Trucking is a hard life and if you think the streets of D.C. are busy on a pedicab, I can’t imagine what it’s like in an 18-wheeler.” 

    The following week, I got a call from Stephen. With my recent slew of late deliveries from my pedicab, my rating had dropped below 4.6 (out of 5) and I would be terminated effective immediately.

    “Is there an appeal process?”

    “We decided in this case, you didn’t merit one.”

    It didn’t matter that I had connections to hundreds of restaurants in the area. It didn’t matter that I had received dozens of 5-star reviews. That couldn’t be fair. The way Postmates treated their couriers was a violation of labor law. The following week, I called Jason Rathod a Labor Attorney from Migliaccio & Rathod Limited Liability Partnership to see what could be done.  They agreed to file a claim, and I joined Sherry Singer et al v Postmates in the class action lawsuit.

    “If the courts rule in our favor, Postmates would have to treat its couriers as employees and pay them accordingly,” said Jason Rathod. “ A victory will have implications for other delivery companies like GrubHub as well as Uber and Lyft drivers and GrubHub food carriers.“

    Labels don’t really matter; it’s the economic realities,”co-counsel, Nicholas Migliaccio said. “Giving workers labels to deny them protections is an injustice worth fighting against.”

    * * *

  • Bottom Line

    Bottom Line

    December 2014

    With McFadden’s closure, I had to scramble to find another venue to celebrate New Year’s Eve. I knew just the right place near McPherson Square next to the Veterans Affairs office on I Street. Established in 1979, The Bottom Line has served politicians, lobbyists, authors, and celebrities dirty martinis and gin and tonics over the span of four decades.

    It’s a renowned watering hole that welcomes Bengals fans on football Sundays. The basement dive bar serves Skyline Chili atop a pile of spaghetti with a generous mound of shredded cheddar cheese. 

    Jr Mosbrucker, owner of the Bottom Line

    The burgers are also half price on Mondays, and on Fridays, there’s the uber-popular “Beat the Clock” happy hour, where cold bottles from their extensive beer list start dirt cheap at 4 and climb a buck to $5 at 5 and until it reaches its peak at 8 pm.  

    I had visited the institution before on Sept 14, 2014, when the Falcons played the Bengals at Paul Brown Stadium, Cincinnati, and the Bengals whooped the Dirty Bird’s ass. The “The Bengals Growl” played loud and proud every time they scored, along with that celebrated/annoying chant.

    “Who dey, who dey, who dey think gonna beat dem Bengals?”

    “Nobody” is then screamed in unison.


    Alcides serving Shots at the  Bottom Line

    Owner Jr Mosbrucker and Manager, Alcides Garcia were busy keeping the D.C. Jungle happy, serving orange vodka shots to the faithful fans. Behind the bar, Ellen Massey and Ivan Aguilar were performing their magic pouring cheap domestic beer with baskets of crispy golden fries. The crowd was mostly trashed and boisterous, but for food, they were easy to please.

    Jr had a knack for making his customers laugh and enjoy themselves. “We’ve played in two Super Bowls so far. Think we’re overdue to return to the big game very soon before we turn 40, I hope1”

    New Year’s Eve, 2015

    The party started with a bang. The revelers greeted the wooden saluting Indian chief and gathered under the multi-colored chandeliers which lit up the funky walls with holiday props. They arrived early to reminisce all the big milestones of the year and recall all the victories and eventual defeat of their beloved football team. For the fourth year in a row, the Bengals were eliminated in the first round of the playoffs, but still, there was a lot to cheer for. Mayor Bowser took the oath of office after a rocky tenure of Mayor Gray, Black Lives Matter made a huge statement, and weed was now legally flowing in the city.

    Merrymakers danced with abandon while the D.J. spun a percussive house mix. They sang “Raise Your Glass” by Pink and “Don’t Stop Believing” by Journey while Ivan worked behind the bar concocting stylish cocktails and pouring sparkling wine like a magician.

    Ivan Aguilar shaking a cocktail

    The crowd knew 2015 was going to be an even more amazing year. The presidential campaigns would be heating up, and many expected Hillary to win the Democratic nomination. D.C. restaurant scene would continue to flourish, and independent courier services like Postmates and Uber Eats were starting to gain steam.

    So I was thrilled to have found the perfect spot to celebrate New Year’s Eve — What doors would open this year, and which ones would close? Hopefully, the one resolution I could stick with this year would be to drink less alcohol.

    “Hey, we’re looking for a website redesign next year,” Jr stated. “Would love for you to join the D.C. Jungle.”

    “I’m a die-hard Falcons fan, but, I love the energy and would be thrilled to join the team,” I replied.

    “Great, what are your prices?”

    I opened up my webpage on my laptop, which showed a price of $2,500.

    “Sounds great. It looks like you’re having a blast. So, we’ll pick up your tab tonight to make it even more enjoyable.”

    “Fantastic Jr., I’m sold. Tonight, I’m officially a Bengals fan.”

    As the evening wore on, I noticed the alcohol kick in. I voraciously consumed anything that was offered to me — Whiskey, tequila, scotch, beer. Then before I noticed that time had slipped by, the ceremonial ball was released, and people were raising glasses of champagne hoping 2015 would bring another stellar year. Glasses clinked, and confetti rained down like snowflakes. Dancing bodies gyrated like an Egyptian belly dancer while party revelers continued to pack the place like this was the place to be. It was getting sultry hot with little breathing room.

    I had been out cold for quite a while when Jr found me, my head down listlessly on a table, drool flowing from the corners of my mouth, the front of my shirt stained with Cincinnati chili. Alcides got me a glass of iced water which I readily drank. Then I stepped out to get some fresh air. Merrymakers were raising a ruckus with abandon, and I happily joined them in the cheer. I laughed at a man making a feeble attempt to climb a light pole. I wanted to join a crowd of twenty-somethings dancing in the middle of the street, but something seemed amiss. I rushed inside the pub to see that the crowds had not eased. I walked over to Jr to see if he could jog my memory.

    “No more drinks for you,” he said. “You’ve had quite a lot tonight.”

    Then suddenly, it dawned on me. My backpack with my Macbook Pro, wallet, and keys was missing — it appeared someone had grabbed it when I was lights out. I ran around like a headless chicken asking if anyone had seen it.

    Jr scratched his head. “I remember you had your laptop out at the beginning of the night, but I don’t remember seeing it after that.”

    “Well my car keys were also in my bag. How am I supposed to get home now?”

    “Here, lemme give you $40 to catch a cab. Sleep it off; hopefully, you’ll remember where you left it.”

    I returned home, banged on the door, and woke up my housemate. Then I crawled into my rack and tried to sleep it off. The next morning, I caught a metro to Farragut West to retrieve my car. I was afraid I had forgotten where I parked it. My eyes didn’t deceive me when I saw the distinctive half sedan, half pickup truck of my 2003 Subaru Baja on 18th & I, and when I looked into the back seat, I was beyond delighted to find my elusive backpack. My Macbook Pro and keys were exactly where I left them. How did it get there? Was I hallucinating all along? It was clearly time to change my drinking habits.

    1 The Bottom Line opened on October 29, 1980.

  • Ben’s Upstairs

    Ben’s Upstairs

    August, 2016.

    I was driving back from Front Royal, VA, the gateway to the Shenandoah National Park, when I got an unexpected call from a long-time restaurateur friend.

    “Manuel, it’s great to hear from you. How’s the Iguina family?”

    “Wife and kids are fine. We’re launching a new restaurant theme on H Street.”

    “Really, Latin, Puerto Rican?”

    “Neither one, I just got hired as the Director of Operations by Ben’s Chili Bowl.”

    “Wow, chili and half-smokes – a local legacy. Congrats!”

    “Yes, it’s a true iconic symbol, but we’ll be focusing on a totally different cuisine – Southern with a twist of Caribbean.”

    “Sweet my friend, on U Street?”

    “No, above the new location on 1001 H Street – we’ll be changing its name from Ten 01 to Ben’s Upstairs in “a few weeks.”

    That makes a helluva lot of sense. The Ben’s name holds a massive amount of clout. What worked on U Street with Ben’s and Ben’s Next Door should work on H.”

    “Yes, we’re thrilled beyond belief, and I would love for you to join our team.”

    The following week, I met with Nizam Ali, owner and Vice Chair of the Ben’s Chili Bowl Foundation; Manuel and his Chef who hails from North Carolina, Quinton Mitchell. We formulated a plan to photograph their space and savory dishes, develop a website theme that captures their unique character and aggressively market the space to locals and tourists.

    “H Street Fest is the biggest block party in D.C.,” Nizam asserted. “We want to launch Upstairs in conjunction with the Festival and hope that people from all over come in and sample our cuisine and experience our renowned, timeless brand.”

    Similar to the iconic lunch counter on U Street with Ben’s Next Door, a historical American restaurant, Ben’s Upstairs featured a full service bar as well as a covered rooftop space offering stunning sunset views.

    H Street was once a thriving economic corridor. But after the ’68 riots, the area was devastated. Similarly, U Street was ravaged to ruins after the riots. Businesses were damaged and smoldered, but Ben’s Chili Bowl stayed opened even through the many nights of curfew. Ben’s fed first responders and black activists, and served as a peaceful gathering place and safe haven for all.

    Kay’s Jewelers and Morton’s Department Store burned down during April 1968 riots. Overall, more than 1,100 buildings in D.C. were damaged and the middle-class fled to the suburbs to seek safety and open space. People did not return for 20 years, and it wasn’t until the start of the 21st century that people began to invest in their community and redevelop the battered corridor.

    That’s why Ben’s Chili Bowl is such a revered landmark. President Obama and national celebrities frequently dropped by to grab a bite, and for many world leaders, it’s a rite of passage after visiting the White House.

    “Our slogan is Southern-influenced cuisine food with a hint of Caribbean flavors,” Nizam announced.

    “Fried oysters Po-Boy with citrus aioli, fried green tomato BLT with ancho chile lime mayo, jerked salmon and lobster roll with arugula and roasted peppers, whole fried snapper served with coconut mojo are our featured dishes,” Quinton revealed. “And Manuel also assists since he’s from the enchanting island of PR.”

    “Also love the stuffed yucca and green plantains as well as the mac ‘n’ cheese studded with crawfish,” Manuel shared.

    “My father Ben was born in Trinidad and my mother Virginia is from Southern Virginia. We want our new menu to reflect the Ben’s family roots,” Nizam remarked.

    “And the drinks are very much Latin/Caribbean featuring Bacardi mint Mojitos, Mezcal Margaritas, and Stoli Raspberry Sangrias,” Manuel informed. “Very comparable to my Little San Juan.”

    “Thanks for all this timely information. I need to ask for a favor. “I have a friend who just arrived from Jamaica. Can you get her a job?”

    “If she has a green card, she’ll fit right in,” Manuel replied. “And BTW, will you be inviting food bloggers like you did at Mio?”

    “Super idea — food bloggers and social media influencers.”

    [ Image: Orlando Darden.png ]

    Orlando Darden Jr.  @Ben’s Upstairs

    Who me also a food model? Well when my good friend Chito invites me to join him as he samples a new restaurant’s menu, what else can I say but YES! At the two weeks old new #benschillibowl on H St. As I sample the variety of dishes, all I can think is that this restaurant has transcended it’s legendary staple of #chillihotdogs and fries! Very satisfied with the experience.

    On Saturday, Sept 17, during the H Street Festival, Ben’s Chili Bowl welcomed eaters and spectators to the 4th Annual Half Smoke Eating Contest.

    Tens of thousands streamed along the 11-block corridor looking to taste wholesome food and experience diverse culture and fun.


    Half Smoke Eating Contest

    What is unique about the D.C. half smoke?  Is it because it’s half pork and half beef?  Or is it Ben’s original spice mix that is a well-kept family secret. Or maybe because it’s grilled on both sides on a hot griddle until perfectly charred. Whatever the reason, the sausage placed on a lightly steamed bun, dowsed with yellow mustard, sprinkled with chopped white onions and smothered with the famous, generation-old chili sauce has become D.C.’s signature dish.

    As usual, Virginia Ali, the Matriarch of the D.C. restaurant world, was busy running the restaurant, cooking half smokes and cleaning tables.

    Eight lucky participants got to enjoy the sweet, smoky half smokes, grilled to perfection, to see who could consume them the fastest.

    Mary Jones set a local record by devouring eight half-smokes in eight minutes — a feat that could put Joey Chestnut to shame.

    [ Image: Screen-Shot-2022-02-21-at-8.56.57-PM-1024×557.png ]

    Vida Ali congratulates Mary Jones for winning the Half Smoke Eating Contest.

    Ben’s stage also showcased some of D.C.’s hottest local artists such as Rare Essence, Ozone, Renee and Wooty 95

    After the contest and concert, fans filed into Ben’s to grab a chili dog with chili cheese fries or Upstairs to grab a Southern Caribbean sandwich paired with a Mojito. 

    A beautiful, full-figured woman with long, black hair and a thick, rich accent served me a Caribe cupcake with a Red Stripe.

    [ Image: Kiomey Ben’s Upstairs.png ]

    Kamara @ Ben’s Upstairs

    “Thank you kindly Kimara. What a great time for you to start working here.”

    “I’ll swing by shortly to see if you want another one.”

    “Thanks, but one beer is all I’m gonna have today.”

    “What are you on a diet?”

    “I’m trying to taper off, and attending these events and festivals ain’t making it any easier.”

    The festival was amazing and the launch was a smashing success. Now it was time to stroll down the avenue to watch other local talents and dancers perform. Cheers to H Street!  This community has become a veritable playground for foodies and art and music aficionados alike.

    I wanted to remain in this vibrant city and enjoy all the perks she had to offer — her culture, the restaurant scenes, the melting pot — but part of me told me it was time to move on..to head west towards the mountains and valleys, where I would find respite and healing.


    Ben’s Upstairs looking out at the western sky
  • Vapiano

    Vapiano

    I applied for the GWU Business Plan competition in 2011 and 12 with high hopes that perseverance would pay off. After all, I had a couple of notches such as Startup Weekend in my belt, and unlike the vast majority of applicants, I actually had a real business that was gaining traction.

    April 1 2012

    Dear Chito,

     I was personally very impressed with your business plan.  Therefore, I was pleased that even though it was not included in the top 8, it was selected to serve as the “backup” in case one of the 8 teams selected chosen to advance to the finals cannot present on April 13. 

     My advice is to begin planning your oral presentation now and I will let you know as soon as we know for sure whether you will or won’t be presenting on the 13th. 

    I will be in touch as soon as I know more about whether the top 8 teams will all be able to present on April 13.  Congratulations on being one of the “top 9” teams out of the 144 that entered this year’s competition!

    John Rollins

    Director, GW Business Plan Competition

    Professor of Entrepreneurship

    I took Professor Rollins advice and accepted the invitation to attend the April 2012 GW Startup & Internship Fair.  The halls of the Marvin Center were filled with students some with blank stares mindlessly flipping pages, others on their laptops with Netflix streaming in the background. Despite their best attempts, they yearned for the lazy days of summer, but could not ignore the fact that midterms were just around the corner. Meanwhile, upstairs in the Grand Ballroom, there was lots of buzz for the next big thing.  I arrived at the career fair with huge aspirations but tempered expectations.  A flock of fellow co-founders from the D.C. meetup group as well as George Washington University classmates were also participating, and those adventurous self-starters were eager to explain their big ideas.  There were many thoughtful conversations and face-to-face interactions with the rising talent pool from all over the metro area.

    GW Startup & Internship Fair

    One particular enterprising young man meandered through the crowd and over to my table. He was a cheerful happy-go-lucky sophomore who looked every bit a techie, but also a guy with a playful smile. “Hello, I’m Zach,” he introduced himself gleefully.

    “Nice to meet you. Are you from here?”

    “Originally from California, but went to high school in the South. I’m passionate, over-caffeinated and goofy, some say.”

    Zach Peirce

    Zach geeked over the pictures of food and wanted to hear more about our dish repository.

    “I love discovering new places and tasting different types of food, and I’m a technical product guy, so this could be the right fit.”

    “Are you sure the startup world is the right move for you as opposed to interning for Uncle Sam down the road?”

    “I’m more enamored by the startup life than working for the government.”

    “How ‘bout environmental activism – there are tons of opportunities in town.”

    “I’m a business student, so I’m all about process improvement.  I have lots of innovative ideas that I would like to see put to work and don’t have the patience for the government to implement them. Again, I’m here so I can effect immediate change.”

    I described to Zach the whole concept of the Vapiano ordering system. “You get a store charge card as you enter, and then you walk up to different stations to order pasta, pizza, antipasto, salad and drinks, scanning your card at each station.  Often you have to have to queue up for 15-20 minutes before you even get to order from the line cooks, so it’s important to have your selection ready. If you’re not a regular customer, it can be difficult to know what type of dish to order and what toppings and ingredients you want.

    “So we should feature each dish online and break it down by specific type and category and then list all their ingredients.  Then customers can preselect their preferences and taste and the site will show them the name and picture of the dish which they can show to the cooks.”

    “How will customers access the site?”

    “We can provide the QR code to customers when they queue up, and they can use their phones to make their seamless selections.”

    The following week, Zach and I spent an afternoon at Vapiano like food nerds, snapping pictures of dishes as they were prepared.  Lunchtime was crush time from a rush of mindless govies, so major kudos to the white coats who let us photograph the dishes while juggling orders from impatient customers. The work was exhausting but stimulating, and the best part, the starving sophomore and I were able to sample several dishes that are renowned across Italy.

    “What’s next? I’ve eaten my share of fettuccine to last the whole school year.”

    “I’m afraid there’s plenty more pasta on the horizon. Now we gotta do all the grunt work.”

    We headed to the Gelman Library on campus to post the dishes and categories on our site. There we met up with my friend and fellow entrepreneur JD Pagano. A software developer by trade, JD recently returned from a two-year stint in the Peace Corp.

    “This country is very grateful to its veterans. But we need to appreciate the service of the Peace Corps, also. How did you enjoy your tour?” I asked.

    “Very meaningful and impactful service. The experience was life-changing.”

    “That’s awesome. Anywhere exotic?”

    “The beautiful country of Kyrgyzstan in Central Asia.”

    “Was there lots to see and do?”

    “Absolutely. Great place to hike and ski. Loved the traditional Kyrgyz dancing and amazing folklife.”

    After the three of us got done adding the content to RUNINOut, we planned the next step.

    “Let’s organize a food tasting event at Vapiano’s for later this month,” I suggested. “We want people to test out our platform.”

    “Great idea,” Zach said. “Just advertise on campus that they’ll be free pizza, and you’ll get a ton of students there.”

    “College students are not the right audience for our survey. We’re looking for young professionals in their 20s and 30s with more refined taste,” I replied.

    JD started creating an event on Facebook. “I can ask my friend Misha to help promote it. Between the two of us, we know a ton of people in that demographic.”

    Together we sent out a boatload of invitations to our friends from that category, and we were delighted to see a few dozen foodies and govies show up with curious minds and ravenous appetites.

    In the beginning, the three of us stayed busy doling out dishes of Carbonara and Margherita. But once everyone was served, we were able to mingle and obtain feedback.

    I approached a cute girl with long black hair. “So you must be Misha, JD’s friend who you met in Kazakhstan.”

    Misha chuckled. “You got the right girl, but the wrong stan. It’s Kyrgyzstan not Kazakhstan.”

    “Oh so sorry, Kazakhstan was the country portrayed in the movie ‘Borat’ — a lot different than Kyrgyzstan where you served.”

    “No worries, almost everyone gets the names mixed up. The Peace Corp recently left Kazakhstan and hopefully, there’ll be no more mockumentaries.”

    JD Pagano & Misha Davies

    Kanita Williams left her job early from the D.C. Superior Court and made the 10 minutes walk over.

    “The pizza is awesome, but not great for someone on a minimal-carb diet.”

    “You should meet Orlando. He’s a personal trainer and runs a company called Bodyfit D.C.”

    Orlando walked over to introduce himself. “Nice to meet you. Where do you currently work out?”

    “LA Fitness but with work requirements, I find it challenging meeting my fitness goals.”

    “Skip the gym and get an awesome workout outdoors. Come join me for a boot camp workout three times a week. We do high intensity interval training.”

    “But my schedule at the court is so unpredictable. Can you be flexible?”

    Kanita and Orlando

    “Absolutely. Daily exercise is a gift that enables us to experience the gift of life more abundantly. I would be happy to get you started.”


    Vapiano’s Meetup

    A woman in her early 30’s with dirty blonde hair and a beaming smile took a bite of her pasta. “Mmm, the Pasta Basilico is cooked perfectly, al dente.”

    “Tender but firm is how I like it, too. So what do you think of this crazy concept?”

    “Not a fan of having to wait in line and returning to my table, only to find out that my friends have already started digging into their Greek salads. But I like how your site helps customers choose their orders while they wait.”

    “Super to hear. Zach and I spent last week, photographing each dish and then painstakingly adding them to the site.”

    “Wow, just the two of you? There’s a ton of different dishes here.”

    “Yes, my co-founder, Senodja, is deployed to Camp Arifjan, Kuwait, and Kanita is busy clerking in the D.C. Superior Court. So we have room for one more.”

    “I think this would be fun. My name is Suzannah by the way.  I’m a foodie just like you, and also an entrepreneur, specializing in marketing and business development.”

    “Super Suzannah, maybe we can help each other. We could use help reaching out to restaurants, and you can gain priceless experience working with a budding startup.”

    PHOTO GALLERY