Ah, the daily commute.

Heard on the Metro:

"Attention. Please look up from your newspapers and Blackberrys now and then to be aware of your surroundings. If you see any suspicious behavior, please report it to a Metro official ee-mee-dee-ately. Remember: Be prepared, not scared. This has been your Metro tip for the day."

"Naw, naw, naw, see we is in homeroom together. Fah real! Naw, I know, I saw yo schedule. Gurrrl. Oh mah Gawwwwd, shat up, I love this song; this mah SONG!"

"Doors closing (bing bong to the tune of "Jane Says")."

"I've got a meeting with someone the White House tomorrow . . . "

Seen on the Metro:

A gorgeous view of the Potomac River coursing below us with the butter yellow sun shining above us.

A roach. A rat (on the rails, not in the train). A smear of some bodily substance making a clear view through the windows impossible.

The cool, deep green of the Virginia trees as we emerge from underground and seemingly into the endless sky.

This guy twitching and scratching and flinching wearing a ratty, stained t-shirt that barely provided any protection for his scabby skin topped off with a loud purple hat. He could be the stunt double for Tyrone Biggums. No joke.

Smelled on the Metro:

You don't wanna know.