Metro is Not for Date Night

After all my horror stories, it would seem this little statement would be self-explanatory. As in, why would I even have a date night story that involves the metro because WHY would anyone take the metro on a date night?! Fair point. Here's pretty much the list of reasons:

- one of us will never agree to be the "designated driver"

- we like our cocktails on date night

- a taxi to downtown runs around $50 one way

- it's not a date night if you stay in the suburbs

-  the metro is $2.70 one way (on weekends)

So, we compromised and decided that we'd take the metro TO our date night, and then cab home later. (Frugality really doesn't have that much room on a official date night I realize, but by the time we pay a babysitter to entertain and tuck in the Princesses, support previously mentioned love of cocktails with dinner and then add in the cost of transportation -- well, it just seemed like a good idea at the time.)

Note that there was a prior awareness that the metro was undergoing construction that would keep us from getting off at the most conveniently located stop. When all factored in, the shorter cab ride still seemed worth it. Boarding metro = zero issues. [husband reminded me after reading that I forgot to mention the only other riders were two seemingly drunk college guys all gussied up for a frat boy night on the town. I did blame them for the later decision to get on the shuttle as they were also aboard.] Getting to last stop = very timely. Exiting at a new station = similar to trekking up Everest. Seriously, it was NUTS how far and long the escalator ride was at Rosslyn (supposedly the third longest continuous escalator in the world, for real). [again reminded by husband that he made a witty "sherpa" reference as I huffed my way to the top. my purse is not THAT big.] Somehow we made it without the assistance of an oxygen tank.

{Side note: the escalators in metro stations are very frequently out of order.

I feel for those people stuck tredging up this daily!}

But the trek must have left us lacking in judgment because it was then that we saw the "shuttle" (read that as metro bus) that was ready to depart to our final destination. Like, really ready, just hop in and go. So, we did. This is where the brilliance of the cheaper commute started to lose its luster.

Standing room only, which left me attempting to hold onto an overhead bar to steady myself, but despite my big girls shoes, looked more like one of the Princesses hanging from monkey bars (this was husband's exact description between giggles and attempts to offer me assistance).

{This is likely mental image the husband had but instead of cute Princess on playground it was wife hanging on metrobus. Exactly the look I was going for: monkey.}

I said it was a good thing we were going to have extra cash for cocktails because immediately upon my ability to exit the "shuttle" I was prepared to do a shot. Or three. At this point we could also not help but overhear random flamboyant rider talking on his iPhone say, multiple times (ala Rachel Zoe) -- "That's bananas!" Which, added to the monkey bar visual for the husband must have really just been too much. [and one final, yet brilliant reminder from husband was that reason we even noticed this guy on his phone in the first place was from the WHAM! Wake me up before you go-go ringtone. really, it was bananas.] He was practically in tears, which is the only thing that was keeping me from hyperventilating.

Taking the metro on date night IS bananas.

But we are still laughing about it, and putting Wham! back into the dance party rotation.

XOXO - Happy date night!

Les is more.

Sitting in front of me tonight was Les Nesman -- awkward spectacles, bad hair, bow-tie and anti-communist griping about current events in full glory. If he had made people walk around an imaginary private space before taking a seat, it would have been an outstanding Friday evening commute.

Now Les alone,  I could spot at least once a week, but since I could actually hear this guy too, it was truly uncanny. I was left hoping a Herb Tarlek, Venus Flytrap or Johnny Fever look alike would  sit down next to him and start up some dialogue -- but unfortunately all I got was the theme song stuck on replay in my head. Maybe next week!
XOXO -- living on the air in Cincinatti

2009 Flashback?

While recently it has seemed a bit more like an '80s flashback when it comes to the metro (or maybe I'm just more familiar with bad fashions, movie and tv sitcom characters from the 80s?) with the snow coming down tonight, I'm beginning to think there may be another December 2009 flashback heading my way.

Yes, that means not only will most of the activity in our nation's capital come to a halt due to weather, but commuting anywhere above ground will pretty much be non-existent. For those of you in the midwest or taking more reliable forms of public transit (yes, I mean the CTA) you might be shocked to know that it takes a scant 5" of snow (sometimes less) to cripple public transporation around here. But that's nothing compared to watching them trying to clear roadways:

{I don't know this cute kid, but he is riding pretty much the same form/size front loader I saw outside in the street earlier.}


xoxo - unpacking the snowshoes

The "Bikram" Car

Inevitably it happens about once a month, a bikram metro car arrives, luring me in for the commute home. I think many of you get the analogy I'm making to bikram yoga here, but just in case: bikram is typically practiced in a hot/humid room to help achieve deeper stretching/strengthening and stress relief. Or so I've been told.

As you can imagine, this also creates a glorious environment for commuting.

Oddly enough, the way to tell which car is the bikram car is because it appears like a bit of a mirage after multiple, sardine-packed, not-even-standing-room-only, completely filled cars whiz by. Suddenly, there it is, a car that appears open, appears to have somewhere to sit down for the next 40+ minutes. It really does seem too good to be true. This is why the first time I stepped onto one, I was curious as to why others weren't rushing forward to nab this coveted space, this room to breathe and read and relax when WHAM! hit with the 100 degrees and 50% humidity.

It was then I realized why people were avoiding these cars like the plague. Sitting in one for too long can kinda make you feel like you are coming down with the plague.

Only, I have actually come to enjoy these quiet rides in an overheated metro.

Here's why: there are no high maintenance commuters in the bikram car. Which means nobody is yapping away on their cell phone or vigorously shooting things on their PSP2. Nobody is complaining about their boss or their jobs or their annoying co-workers. Nobody is combing their hair or applying make-up or flinging their backpack/purse/suitcase into your face/knees/feet.

It's typically a small group of brave people who, I would like to think, have decided the discomfort of a little heat and humidity far outweighs the typical commuting experience. I like to think we have a shared appreciation for a commute where silence is golden and personal space is appreciated.

Until someone faints or pukes.

XO - embracing bikram where I can

Metro-free Mondays

Most Mondays I won't be lucky enough to avoid commuting. But in honor of Dr. Martin Luther King and his belief that equality on public transportation was a civil right, I'm thinking on ways to keep things interesting. You can read more about MLK and public transportation here see a photo of the historic bus on which Rosa Parks refused to give up her seat.

Does it mean we've come a long way when it seems pretty much nobody is willing to give up a seat on public transportation these days?

Cup of Ambition

I adore this movie, and I adore that on my way to work on a Friday morning, I was surrounded by look-alikes for this cast of working ladies. Really. The fashions are back and they are on the metro. Enjoy!

"It is a jungle out there"



XOXO - Happy Friday

Rainbow Brite

When I found this image I was stunned really, it was kind of shocking how much the woman I saw on the metro was channelling this peppy rainbow-adorned little sprite. Ok, this particular woman wasn't exactly spritely, but she was pretty spot-on with the outfit, except it was pants and the boots might have been a tad more in the style of "moon" boots circa 1980. And she wasn't actually emitting rainbow stars. But the funny thing about someone so colorful in a sea of cranky black- and gray-jacketed commuters is that she managed to give off an aura of rainbow stars. Enough that it made me smile, and I'm pretty sure it was the cause of the smiles of at least a few others seated around me.

I couldn't help equate it to the adult version of Princess #2's desire to layer flowered leggings with a sparkly skirt and pair that with a contrasting-color shirt covered in butterflies. And then add a sweatshirt or sweater with more sparkles and flowers or polka dots; paired with some striped socks and a scarf and light up shoes; and topped off with a ponytail and five barrettes; and a headband. It's more about being pretty because each individual item is pretty and so the rainbow sum total makes it more pretty. (I am not one to argue with the fashion logic of a 5 yo. -- or a 3 yo or 7 yo for that matter.)

Unfortunately the adult real-life version isn't quite as charming, and is definitely a questionable choice for business attire. But maybe her job was at a daycare or hosting kids parties or cheering up sick little ones in the hospital? Whatever her destination, I'm certain she continued to spark smiles all along the way.

XOXO - Not quite a double rainbow, but still awesome

NO FOOD ALLOWED.

Or drinks for that matter. Seems fairly harsh at 7 a.m. when I cannot be sipping on some much needed coffee, but in general I get it. Keep the metro clean so it can maintain its rep. Frankly, if I were public transportation I think I'd rather my rep be "speedy" or "timely" or "convenient" but, you know, I guess the metro has chosen "clean," and so there we go with the fairly strict adherence to the no food/drink rule. So, on those rare occasions when my nostrils are assaulted by the strong scents of food, I can't help but wonder what has caused someone to have such an utter disregard of the rules. One morning I saw a gentleman surreptitiously trying to eat hot oatmeal. Steaming. I actually saw him after I caught a strong wiff of that tell-tale aroma. Perhaps he wasn't going for surreptitious as it seems a granola bar might have achieved a similar breakfast nutritional requirement yet be more easily concealed. But that's the mystery of commuting with strangers.

Early this week my senses were accosted by the smell of a fresh orange. Not offensive, but it struck me as a very bold move: peeling and eating a juicy piece of fruit on the metro is downright audacious! So when I checked out who might be so brave as to cast aside this rather strictly enforced rule, I was a little defeated to realize it was simply a mother feeding her young daughter. Perhaps it wasn't even a mother and daughter, maybe she was a nanny or maybe an aunt or very young grandmother. Just because they had matching white fur jackets and hats does not mean they were related. Regardless, as a mother, I empathize with the struggles of travel that requires a child to remain both relatively quiet and still. I fully understand and appreciate the use of food as an incentive to achieve a modest level of cooperation. When I saw the orange being given to this adorable child sitting so quietly and politely, I couldn't help but smile. Even when the (mother) next pulled out a ziplock baggy of cheerios, I maintained my empathy.

It was the subsequent banana followed by yet ANOTHER ziplock of something that looked like chex cereal that caused me to lose my cool a bit.

To be fair, maybe I lost my cool because it was now 20 minutes into a commute that does not include caffeine before 8 a.m.…but either way I couldn't help it, my judgemental mommy side took over and I started thinking just a bit of planning could have avoided all of this eating on the metro business. Packing some crayons and paper? A few small toys? A book? Heck, some lipgloss and a pack of tic tacs could work in a pinch! I was willing to forgive the orange, but beyond that it was just blatant rule-breaking for no good reason in my mind. If my need for coffee isn't a good enough reason to break rules, then the calming effects of food snacks on small children shouldn't be either. Particularly when the small children are able to occupy their own seat, have all their teeth and can talk in full sentences.

Where were these two going that she needed to fortify her (daughter) with a three+ course breakfast before they arrived? Were they running so late she wasn't able to feed her before they left the house so instead she had time to pack up this multi-course breakfast for eating on the road? Why did she pack two different types of cereal and fruits? Was she some kind of food pyramid freak? Maybe there were medical issues to consider that I have no idea about?  

So I mentally reminded myself that I had no true idea of their situation and should just STOP jumping to conclusions. But JUST THEN, they got off the train, and not even at a transfer station which means it was likely their FINAL DESTINATION. When I looked over at the stray cheerios lining the empty metro seat left behind, I had a new appreciation for following the no food/drink rule.

I mean, if I wanted to commute to work in seats covered with cheerios, I'd just drive my minivan. Which brings us back to why coffee is probably not the greatest idea either:

{not an actual image from my minvan, but I do fully appreciate it}

XOXO - Rule follower

Johnny Rotten is alive and well

At least, he is if he's commuting by metro these days. I'm not sure what business he might have in downtown DC around 8:00 in the morning, but he was standing next to the doors on my metro this morning so I really should have asked him. It's good to know that he retains he sense of personal style no matter how formal his business. Because if he hadn't kept that signature hairstyle and ratty rocker attire I might have mistaken him for just another one of the completely interchangeable bodies travelling to our nation's capital city. I also felt a little bit guilty that there weren't any Sex Pistols songs on my iPod, so I switched to a Billy Idol tune and felt somewhat better. I mean, you just have to work with what you have, right?

In some ways I should have seen it coming. On our way to pre-school, Princess #3 yelled, "stop talking to me! I can't hear the music!"

XOXO - Keep rockin'

2011 the year of the metro blog?

I'm not sure it's really possible for me to comprehend an entire blog devoted to my experiences on the metro. I mean the Colonel Sanders, Stay-Puft Marshmallow man and sorority girl takeovers are all amusing, they just aren't that blog-worthy. Maybe worth a photo, but I am not a person that can snap photos of random people and think it's okay to post them online, regardless of how funny they are or how likely it is someone else right next to me is using the same funny person to create an awkward YouTube video. Mainly because I'm just not that good with my blackberry camera and nobody would be able to discern the blurry photos and then the comedy of my descriptions would be diminished. That or while commuting I'd have to be all, "excuse me, can you please stand that awkward way against the pole again because my last shot was too blurry and people might not get how much you look like Kim Kardashian going to work on a new reality series lobbying show?" which could lead to me getting punched in the face. So no real photos. Maybe just analogous images I find off the internet, but this already sounds like too much work.

For everyone that has been so lovely and encouraging about a potential metro blog, I'm trying to accommodate you, but it's going to take more than the crazies on the metro to sustain this.... I need to find a voice.  So I'm thinking on appropriate topics that seem to flow in line with my commuting woes in general and the random people we don't know anything about other than their outward appearance and their commuting etiquette. Like the shove-y Mrs. Claus that kicked off 2011. I mean how can you really be in a BIGGER hurry than anyone else to cram onto a boxcar commuter train and sit for who knows how long until your next destination? But what can I tell simply from looking at a white-haired woman wearing round wire specs, a fur-lined red jacket with matching pants and black boots? Maybe she really was Mrs. Claus and she's just used to VIP treatment. These are very subjective judgments.  

I've resolved a number of things for 2011 and have high hopes for accomplishing a long list of goals. So this is where we begin, thinking on how to make the horrific metro commute MORE interesting, or at least into a less painful and more fun distraction for my weekdays. But first I must wave the white flag in a battle over whether Princess #3 can put on her own underpants (she can, and does frequently). Tonight, however, she insists on help or going naked. No middle ground. So she's been walking around with a naked butt for about an hour now. I don’t think this will bode well for the goal of getting back to the preschool routine. Pretty certain the school would frown upon underpants-less girls in attendance; or at least upon their mothers sending them that way out of some stubborness battle of wills with a 3 yr old. Here's to hoping I'm not so easily defeated in my other goals this year, and that I don't see anyone's naked butt on the metro tomorrow.

XOXO - Living the dream