“Through the community,” she said. Years ago I’d drifted away from the community, which consisted of Syrians, Lebanese, and Palestinians living in the D.C. area. When I moved back to D.C. after a year in Italy post-college, I’d taken part in weekends of pregaming at posh lounges followed by bass-pumping, douchebag-frequented clubs, an activity I would’ve gladly traded for, say, cleaning toilets. “He’s from a very good family.”
