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!