Misadventures on the Metro

chapter 12

I am suffering from a case of the blues – the Summer Metro Blues. Last night was a repeat of this, spiced up with a little added drama.

I’m not usually fortunate enough to ride with my handsome husband, but yesterday was my lucky day – after work he stopped by my office and we trudged to the Metro hand-in-hand. Though we were traveling an hour-and-a-half later than usual, the scene as we approached the platform was a hoard of people waiting impatiently for a train. I can’t say we were surprised since summer tends to impair train functionality and an onslaught of tourists makes for many a night cramming against strangers just to get home.

We shimmied past the throngs to a waiting spot and, well, waited. Three trains passed, including a short, four-car train which I think the Metro powers-that-be sent down the track to mock us. By the fourth train, we were determined to get on, no matter how stuffed the car. The train approached and by a small miracle we squeezed on board.

In spite of foreign arms, backpacks, overheard Ipod music and the feeling of someone else’s breath on the back of my neck, the ride was somewhat uneventful.

I should say it was uneventful until the next stop. As the doors opened on cue with the “Metro lady jingle,” it was obvious no additional passengers could fit on the train (I know because Chris and I were the last to squeeze in at the previous station). A large woman in the front of the crowd on the platform started yelling, “Move to the middle of the car, move to the middle.”

No one moved.

“Move in, move in.” [exasperated sigh, looking at me like I’m responsible for the situation] “I’ve been waiting for the last 20 minutes. Three trains have passed. Come on, move in. I want to get home.”

Chris’ departing words to the lady, “We’ve been waiting, too. A train will be coming in 7 minutes.”

“Yah right.” [exasperated sigh]

As I tucked in my limbs to avoid the crushing doors and we sped away leaving the lady where she began, a new idea entered my mind. All aforementioned evidence would seem to fuel my Summer Metro Blues. But I couldn’t stop giggling. The sight of the large woman yelling at a Metro car full of people who couldn’t even scratch their noses without hitting someone in the face was hilarious! I leaned over to my husband and recounted the situation. We laughed. Then, every time we looked at each other we laughed. I developed a full-blown case of the giggles. So did he.

The moral of the story: when you’re feeling sad and frustrated because of a crappy Metro ride, look around – there’s bound to be an idiot making a fool of themselves. Laugh at them. It will make you feel better.