It’s midnight on a weekday summer night, and I’m zooming by people at the Lincoln Memorial on a Lime scooter.
As I whiz in and out of traffic, I say “beep, beep,” sounding like Road Runner as he escapes Wile E. Coyote once again.
There’s more people out here than you would think at this time of night, but I doubt any of them are here for the reason I am.
