Small World

I was riding home on a, brace yourself, packed train! No seats to be had anywhere. Kids were even sitting on their parents laps. But the A/C was working well, so I wasn't that cranky. I was in the middle of a good read (this was before I started using Audible to get books on my iPod), and was looking forward to the 45 minute train ride to make some decent headway on the wonderful world of Greenspan. The book was a pretty heavy hardback though (if you've read Age of Turbulence you know what I'm talking about), so I couldn't stand in the middle of the car and read like I normally do. I needed to lean against something and use two hands. You know, for safety. Since I didn't want to be that guy leaning against the glass at the door entrance, I went to the back of the car and stood in the aisle, against the door. I've found that this space is quality for reading on the metro. You're standing in a spot where you don't get bumped when people exit and because it's in the back of the car it's not that crowded. As I was reading, I hadn't noticed that the car was getting increasingly filled to capacity and that the book was slowly lowering. Both relatively insignificant items of note, or so I thought. As I read, I would raise the book higher to read easier, and it would lower because holding a weight at a fixed point is butt hard. At one point the book hit some resistance, ending the up and down cycle. Now this didn't add up. I was standing up and there wasn't any obstruction (like a backpack from someone standing in front of me) that I could see. So I lifted up the book to see what I had hit. Surprise, surprise, there was a midget standing underneath my book! My book had been resting on top of a midget's head!!! Apparently the little person had been pushed further back as the car filled up, and stood underneath my book. I uttered a hasty apology, and got some sort of midget speak back that I can only interpret as "S'all right." Woops!

If you can't take the heat...

Thankfully, summer is coming to an end. I say this not because I'm glad the seasons are changing. No, I say this because metro cannot figure out how get a decent A/C system running on their cars. Oh, and the underground stations. Ever wanted to lose 20 pounds in hurry? Pick an underground station, any one will do, and stand there for say 30 minutes. If you're not a sweaty, stinking mess, consider yourself lucky because you clearly don't have active merocrine glands. Now the rest of us, we suffer.

Now it's bad enough the trains are stifling on a good day, but factor in a significant delay, like the 45 minute one the other day, plenty of tourists, and you have a recipe for disaster. Or as I like to call it, Tuesday. On this particular ride home, my car was PACKED and HOT. In fact, hot doesn't describe it. Boiling, and that's being generous. This woman had been standing before I got on the train, and stood (or tired too as I'll get to) all the way to the end with me, typically a 45 minute trip. However, on this day, delays happened all over the line because, it was boiling. Everyone knows that on boiling days, metro can't seem to get a train running on time if the apocalypse depended on it. Now these weren't the normal 5-10 minute delays. No, these were single track delays causing havoc all over the place. So we sat. And sat. And sat some more. In a tunnel. With no A/C and a faulty fan system. As I glanced around, I noticed the lady was starting to sway back and forth. Bad sign. Shortly after, she passed out and fell forward, hitting her head on the hand rail. Nothing starts a little panic like someone passing out. Someone gave up their seat so the lady could have it. She was sitting down for about five minutes and then puked all over the place. What is it with me and riders throwing up? Come on people, get an iron stomach. Someone gave her a plastic bag to empty the rest of her stomach into, but the damage was done. Boiling car, little air flow, and an excruciating ride to the next stop where I hopped into the next car down, which had working A/C. Go figure.

I hate puke

I was riding home from a happy hour in DC with a buddy of mine. The usual metro related talk ensued: metro is annoying especially in the summer time with tourists, work is annoying and it would be better to play golf all day or sit on the beach and drink beer, football is the only sport in America that matters. The train stopped at Pentagon City, and an elderly gentleman stumbled on the train. We had started to debate whether the blue line was better than the orange line, when the old dude bumped past us. He mumbled something that I can only assume was an apology. Either that or a Gypsy curse. As he sat down in the handicapped section, I noticed that he looked positively ill, and smelled like alcohol. The train ride continued without incident for three stops, when the head of the drunken guy started lulling to one side of his head. About five seconds later, he leaned forward and booted all over the empty spot in front of him. The smell and sight of puke is enough to make me queasy, but this wasn't your normal, commute home puke. This was geriatric, too much red wine vomit. Just the nastiest crimson substance ever. An escape route was needed STAT. At the next stop, it was nothing short of a stampede for the door. Another ride home on the metro met with appalling disgust...

The Committee for Stench Reduction

This morning started with a slight headache, nothing that a cup of coffee wouldn't fix (a cup of coffee that I have yet to have). Anyway, we'll keep this short, since I am off to get that cup of coffee. With that said - the stench on the 54 this morning was enough to make me want to vomit. As a matter of fact, I was hoping that someone would walk on the bus who had gone a little overboard with the perfume this morning. Perfume itself is a smell that often makes me want to gag, but today it would have been a welcomed scent.

Most times when you are on the bus and you get hit by an awful scent you can do a quick assessment and determine where the stench is coming from. It is usually pretty obvious. However, with today's smell - there was simply no obvious point of origin.

I am writing my ANC commissioner today and asking that he start the Committee for Stench Reduction. In addition to $1.35, a smart trip or a transfer you will need a card that says you have been vetted for proper hygiene - and that you're not emmiting any offensive odors.

I will let you know what I hear back.

Why you can't eat on Metro

Not because of the ad campaign praising the lack of rodents on the train. No, it's to stop me from jacking those chicken nuggets you brought on the train and sat behind me eating, with.... BBQ sauce!!!! Curse you woman!!!! My stomach sounded like a wildebeast on the Serengeti.