I've lived in DC or thereabouts for 10 years now and am a veteran Metro rider. I've done the early morning long haul from Shady Grove to Capital South (where the driver would sing "DU-pont CIRRRRcle!" every time we reached that stop), the crowded briefcase-and-newspapers-open-wide-obstacle course from Cleveland Park to McPherson Square (where I would walk by the White House every morning on my way to work), the short stint from Woodley Park to Bethesda (and that hella long flight of escalators), and the current 45 minute trek from U Street to King Street (where at least I get a view of the beautiful Potomac River every morning and evening). But never, NEVER, have I had someone fall on me. I mean FALL RIGHT ONTO ME. Until the other day.

An older woman boarded the train and passed up some very choice empty seats before deciding that she wanted to sit right next to me. Laden down with a designer purse, an umbrella, and an enormous duffle bag that was about 2/3rds her own size, she slowly made her way down the aisle. She started to arrange herself before sitting down but then the train lurched forward and she lurched backwards - right into my lap, which was already full with my own bag, my book, and my belly. She apologized profusely and I automatically forgave her, but seriously, people, when you get on the train and see an empty seat, take it. I know you want to sit right next to me, but you can admire me from afar too. In fact, that's an even better view! I need to start commuting with a dummy just to avoid getting crushed.


yasmine said...

my favorite line in this post:

I know you want to sit right next to me, but you can admire me from afar too.

i should use this the next time someone tries to hit on me while i'm on BART:

"why don't you just admire me from all the way over THERE!" [pointing to other end of the train]

baji said...

see, you are too nice and you talk to people on the train. i immediately bury myself in a book. one time, someone tried to start up a conversation and was obviously trying to hit on me and i just said, "sorry" and motioned toward the book and pointedly kept reading. he left me alone after that.

yasmine said...

gah, you are so right.
i'm using the 'sorry, can't talk' book-immersion line in conjunction with the 'don't eff with me' cold expression next time i come across one of those dudes.