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September 22, 2003
Expanded waterfront dining in Fells Point

JNS Special Correspondent
FELLS POINT, Baltimore, Md. (JNS) _ There was always something about a snowstorm _ or in this case, a hurricane _ the hand-of-God type event that brought everything to a standstill. No one said it, but that’s why they were really here, looking for that snow-day so they wouldn’t have to go to school.
His first floor soaked, his power off, a portly guy named
Demitri bemusedly sat outside grilling what he had in his refrigerator before it went bad, listening to some Dixieland jazz while his neighbors milled about. The party after the storm.

``I slept through it, the firemen woke us up banging on the doors saying the water was rising,’’ he said. ``I looked out the window and I saw her car floating down the street, and it was running. The water must have shorted out the starter, I guess. It ran into another car, and by the time they got to it it had stalled.’’
Six months earlier, three feet of snow shut down most of the city. In Fletchers, the corner bar across from the bread factory, the pool tables were free. Three sorority sisters snowed in at a local hotel walk in, looking for something to do while they waited for the roads to clear.
``Just when you think the neighborhood can’t give any more, it just keeps on giving, and giving and giving!’’ Alex said, wiping away a fake tear of joy.
Unlike the snowstorm, the hurricane actually caused a lot of misery to some, ruining cars and furniture and floors and walls. But most renters didn’t care too much, they didn’t own the building. The landlords had insurance, it was their headache.
Meanwhile, let’s see what happens in this kooky waterfront. Kind of the expat thing without having to leave the country.
Gibran, also known as G-Money or G$, woke up about 1:30 a.m. and tramped through the streets with Dr. Gary, aka GMD, and Carl, who videotaped the spectacle.
``Hi, I’m G-Money. Welcome to `This Old Catastrophe.’ I’ll be your host on this magical tour,’’ he said to begin the taping.
The water pouring over the sandbags at his front door, he toasted Hurricane Isabel with some Cuervo and took the grand tour.
``Let’s tape people’s pain,’’ said Matt after they ran into him by the Rec Pier.
Amid the network uplink trucks and the Red Cross canteens, the mayor showed up in a tight t-shirt along with some cleaning supplies.
``Don’t take any until the mayor comes to hand them out,’’ a woman from his office said.
Water lapped up to the sidewalk outside the Daily Grind, where the tattooed and pierced got caffeinated.
``No, no coffee. We're closed. I’m still drunk from last night,’’ said the buxom lesbian barrista.
The corner outside Fletchers was inundated, as was the basement. The bar was fine, but no one knew that at first.
``We should go up to the Daily Grind, stand outside and just moan,’’ Alex said, feigning dejection. ``And Fletchers, why God! Why?’’

Posted by Alex at 06:08 PM