Every once in a while, when feeling attuned to my coworker’s aversion to traffic circles (as well he should be — they’re unsafe!), I walk down 15th Street in the morning, and invariably, I pass The Gatsby (pictured above). And I have to say, the naming of this building has always struck me as a bit curious. Of course, I understand the name conjures some vague feeling of opulence (if of the tumid variety), but it’s also worth pointing out that Gatsby was a serially miserable pathological liar who died young, unhappy, and unfulfilled. I suppose they could have gone with The Kurt Cobain or something, but either way, probably not the best thing for a building owner to project.