The Stoop

The stoop is one of my favorite places in the summer. Mostly because the one I frequent is on a busy street in D.C. right by the National Zoo. And trust me, the amount of Saturday strollers on the sidewalk rivals Disney World. But outside of the eye candy, I love the activity of being in the thick of a neighborhood.

And it helps that I have the cutest puppy, ever. More often then not, a little girl, comes up to us and says, "May I please pet your German Sheppard puppy?" I love, love it.

I frequently have coffee, lunch and cocktails on the stoop. And on more than one occasion, the stoop has been the place to meet up post bar or for the last drink before calling it a night.

After one festive night, during the weekend my good friend Campers was in town, a photo shoot commenced on the stoop. Cement stairs, drunk people and a camera do not mix well.

Here comes the hotpokket. I woke up the next morning all excited to view the pics, and my camera would not work... For the life of me, I couldn't remember what happened. Until about a month ago when my favorite person quietly and without judgement returned my now fixed digital camera.

With 30 pictures of evidence, it looks as though after the twenty cigarettes, putting t-shirts over our 'going-out-dresses' and killing an entire tub of french onion dip (or at least I think it was french onion), yes, you can say it, DISASTER, my camera found itself bouncing down cement steps on my beloved stoop.

And since I will be calling the building attached to the stoop home soon, I figure it is time to institute a few stoop rules.

Number 1: "No french onion dip on the stoop." Obviously, the dip directly impacted my ability to hold the camera firmly.

Have a great weekend and enjoy your stoops! I know I will.