If you’re like most Americans, you have at job. (In some cases, two jobs. Thanks, economy!) The only thing worse than work on a Monday is the process of getting to and from work everyday. Odds are if you live some place people want to live, you’re going to be dealing with plenty of other people hurrying to work.
At my last job, I did not have this problem. I worked five minutes away from my office. It sounds insanely short, but that is what happens when you live and work on an island. You can only drive so far before you either hit a bridge or water. It also came in handy because I worked as a reporter for the local newspaper. When something happened outside of work hours, (breaking news like fires, accidents and elementary school plays) I was there to make sure we got a picture.
I now live just outside Washington, DC, where I do not live five minutes away from my office. Sure, in theory it might only take me 15 minutes to get there on open roads, but the Greater Washington area is known for its traffic, which is mostly caused by its drivers, who continue to innovate in the fields of lane changes interpretation of “speed limit.”
Rather than deal with this, I take the Metro, Washington’s subway system. I walk ten minutes to the local Metro stop, then take the Blue Line train seven stops to my office, and I am there. At first, changing to the Metro was new and exciting for me. I had a fun train ride ahead of me all the time, filled with exciting people. Months later, nothing phases me anymore, and my opinion of humanity has been permanently stained.
People are crazy. One of my favorite hobbies is to find a person, look at them, and hate them. This may sound harsh, but they have it coming to them. Who wears sunglasses underground? Not even blind people do that. Or what about tourists? Everyone hates them. DC is saturated with them this time of year. But what is more fun is when you see people who clearly are not thinking properly.
For example, I once saw a college age kid on the Metro. He was in blackface and looked to be a bit nervous–justifiably so. Regardless, most people just ignored him. The longer you ride a subway system the less anything gets to you. Once, I saw a teenager dance up and down the aisle of a train car with a box on his head, which his friends thought was hysterical. No one batted an eye.
Most recently, I saw a man on my way home who had some sort of skin condition. All over his hands, he had lesions of some kind. What I did know what that it probably was not healthy and most likely contagious. I noticed this man’s hands, because he was holding on to the overhead bar firmly with both hands. Not wanting to get leprosy, I moved my hands farther down the bar as soon as I could.
So for those of you on the DC Metro this morning, I will see you there. I will be the one with the glazed over look in his eye.