Tag Archive for metro

Seriously? SEER Re us lee.

Ah commuting, so loverly.
Here are some things I am not a fan of on my commute (I’m talkin to you ORANGE LINE!)

  • People who run. It’s work, people. That’s why they call it work, not happy fun time place. What’s the hurry? Today, new one, someone RAN onto the elevator. RAN. Full steam ahead, panting. N.B.: There are about 10 elevators at my Ginormous gov. office building. In EACH bank. There’s gonna be another one. Ditto trains. Which brings me to…
  • People who jam-pack the trains. Folks, see the little handy sign with the neon letters. See how it says “1 minute.” One. Minute. Seriously?? Seriously. You’d rather jam your self and your twenty giant bags (each seeming to contain a disproportionate amount of right angled objects, stabbing me in the head) into the train, then wait … a minute… for the next one.
  • Sneezers, wheezers, and other germ-festians. Stay home. Seriously. Here’s the latest grossest thing observed, just yesterday: Sneezer dude PICKED his nose, right on the trade, not even a sneak pick either, full on pickage! and then… that’s right, with the SAME HAND, he held onto the ring for standers on the train. Ohhhh.
  • Seat sprawlers. There are several methods for this. My latest least fave: bag abusers. The other a.m., on the orange line, megas galore, hogging and sprawling, finally i get a seat. It is tight and I find myself needing to sit sideways into the aisle. I blame the widening of America and well, let’s be honest, the widening of me. But when I get off the train? I notice … noooo, Sprawly McSprawlington had his red boxy (note the many right angles in a rectangle) LUNCH box on my seat. Didn’t even pretend to try to swoop it up before the person before me or I sat down. Even though I had my bad ON MY LAP as he was taking up all floor space and arm span space with his paper opening and foot tapping. Harumph. I still need to get to the gym though.

XXXX OOOOO, your pal grump a lot.

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Orangeline loveliness


Image by afagen via Flickr

Ah, the beloved Orange line of our most venerable DC metro system.

It did NOT have a good day.

First there was the derailment (2 hour delay, morning rush.)

Then there was the OTHER derailment.

Then, right about the time Washwords was heading home to see her honey and make italian sausage tortellini, there was the “single tracking” between two stops at the end of the orange line, VA country. Estimated time Read the rest of this entry »

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Preparations

We’re getting ready.

Okay, we’re not ready. But we’re trying. Like really hard.

Photo “Inaugural preparations” by adamsjp2010,published on Flickr.

Yesterday during the morning commute there was: a water main break (yah. a. gain) that stranded folks for two hours, a “suspicious package” that shut down a Red Line station and part of one of our busiest streets, a train switch malfunction, an “unexplained” orange line delay. But still. We’re trying.

By Tuesday’s evening commute, one week from the day, I saw this:

  • a slew of volunteers behind one reflector-laden Metro station attendant, telling them, “Now this time, of course, we don’t want them to have to get change or anything, not on Tuesday, right??!” Chuckles from the Northface-jacketed crowd. No, we don’t!
  • a memo from my Official U.S. Government Agency Workplace, detailing where I (and the other 3000 or so employees) could and could not park, walk, stand, and loiter. Yes, you can exit the Security Zone, but no, no you can’t enter.
  • signs galore saying “emergency, no parking, Jan. 19-21.” Harumph, like the one I had to beg District Two, D.C. Police to give me for my move out and my tenant’s move in– “sorry, ma’am, we can’t give them for two days.” Guess Obama didn’t have that problem.
  • and finally, this tip, from “some guy named me” who just happens to be my husband to be, who reports that Arlington Alert is warning: prepare for the inauguration like you would for a hurricane. Won’t we feel stupid, “some guy” postures, when the Obamas show up to our house, only to find the windows boarded up and us in hiding, making our signs in case we need a roof escape.

Are we ready? Not quite. But we’re trying. Yes we are.

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