I was walking down M Street after work yesterday when my dad called. A few minutes into the conversation I had to ask him to hold on for a moment: I couldn’t hear him for the sirens that were approaching. Two police cars moved through the dregs of rush hour traffic slowly, sirens screaming, followed by a limousine, a black SUV with men in sunglasses watching out the windows, and then another police car. When they had passed and moved far enough along the block, I brought my phone back to my ear.
“Sorry,” I said. “Just a little motorcade. How was your trip?”