D.C. Metro, Part II

It's cheap, efficient, relatively quick and usually the best option. But don't label it enjoyable. In fact, D.C. metro can be "an unforgiving bitch." Crowded at certain times and uncompassionate at all times. The area's metropolitan transit system is NOT where you go to make friends. Its patrons act impatient, stare ghostly, and favor disdain. In short, they are disaffected beings crowded together on a public transport. As a friend once eloquently stated, "[D.C. Metro] is intimately close but emotionally distant."

I couldn't describe it any better. Indeed, you step on to the platform, waiting for a train to arrive, and realize people are minding their space. They glance at the schedule, fiddle with their lack-of-service cell phones or keep their heads down. It's a dark, gloomy and chilly place. People only gather in a social format when the train arrives. But instead of conversing they crowd and “accidentally” bump each other for space to ensure entrance and a seat.

Once on the train, riders scurry, not to the middle as requested by the engineer but to the nearest seat all the while looking for that one piece of reading material.

People sit next to each other only if they have to. There is little to no speak. The unfriendly and cold atmosphere from the platform quickly turns into personal glance sessions of who's who. Some stare at their shoes, some stare out the windows into the tunnels of darkness and others look around and size up fellow riders:

"There's the ass who grabbed the last paper!" "I wonder if that cute girl will get off at the same stop?" "What's up with that dude, why does he keep staring?" "Poor fellow, I wonder how long he's been passed out?" "What stop is this, are you kidding me?!"

This, my friends, is the D.C. metro experience. No smiles, no neighborly love and no polite consideration. In fact, it’s best to expect nothing more, otherwise you risk injury.