Speaking Of Dupont…

…well, someone has to talk about it.

There seems to always be a menagerie of people scattered throughout it’s corners

(although most circles don’t technically have corners so Dupont Circle may be the first!)

In either case, whether you are lounging in the grass with Fido or eating an high-priced metro salad on your lunch break, there is always a spectacle of freaks waiting to be discovered.

For one, there is the Vibrato Singing Man who wears headphones and sings at the top of his lungs to whoever dares to listen. He’s probably mid-40’s and probably in need of a few sprays of cologne, alongside of a few drops of water with a smidgen of soap. In either case, whenever he comes to the Circle singing, I smile from ear to ear–well, for those who know me, a little more “ear to ear” than usual–but he comes and sings to the public and to date, I’ve only seen one person (who was on a seemingly important phone call) who shoo’ed him away. He sang and sang while she shoo’ed and shoo’ed. Finally, after much internal debate I’m sure, he departed then fell back into his click of homeless men sitting back row on the Dupont outer layer benches.

Yes, there are two layers to the Circle: an inner layer and an outer layer.

If I had it in me, I could start a whole new blog with pictures, videos, and personal testimonies of the many freaky people that come to the Circle. The best part of this tried and true experiment of people scattering around the Circle is that it’s a Mecca for all types, and the creativity that comes from the Circle because of it is almost indescribable. I love the Circle for this purpose because I know that when I arrive, I will not leave the same person. It’s a nicety that I think doesn’t change as time itself finds a new home. It’s a place that takes in its weak and frail to blend into what we have learn to understand as a community. It’s a place that forms a bond with its tourists and immediately makes them feel like they work, live, and breathe down the street. It’s more than a Circle with stones, water, and cement. It’s a social community that speaks true from the depths of what I’ve only experienced in the streets of Portland, Maine.

Yeah, a community of freaks.

But, I wouldn’t have it any other way. And plus, there’s a Krispy Kreme down the way so why complain about anything when you can indulge in a hell-ish donut like no other.

Ok, a few donuts but who the heck is counting?

M.C. Davis


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