Sooner or escalator

30 August 2011

Another good day to you lovers, friends, family and visiting extraterrestrials.

GF and I use Metrorail to get to and from work every day. I would find it quite easy to turn this blog into a continual self-absorbed groan on the frequently inoperational Metrorail escalators.

But I won’t.

First, I don’t really mind out-of-order motorized incline devices. I like walking. Walking makes me remember I’m alive. Walking makes me realize the world and I are the same. Sometimes walking is the only thing that feels real to me.

Second, we have a functioning Metro system. It could be better, yes. But it could also not exist. I would not enjoy that alternative.

However, sometimes I feel like I should complain about Metrorail. There are lots of things about which I feel I should complain even if they don’t really make me angry. I can’t explain (and neither can Pete Townshend).

Today, two of three escalators leading out of the Court House Metro station were broken (or at least not running). The other escalator was [pretentious description ALERT] transporting humans and luggage down into the bowels of public transit.

So, GF and I walked up the escalator. The person in front of me was wearing a book bag, carrying a book (defeating the purpose of the book bag?) and was wearing exercise gear. My face felt magnetically attracted to her book bag. I stared at it and it stared back. The abyss is a book bag.

Yeesh. If you made it this far in today’s post, I apologize. I don’t remember reading or hearing anything so schmaltzy and pretentious that would have influenced me so lately. Perhaps it is the combination of whisky and Icelandic chocolate.

"There's more to life than this"? I don't think so Bjork.

And yes, I did eat the chocolate while listening to Bjork. I think it intensified the effect.

By the way – Did you remember the video competition from yesterday’s post? No? Then read it and enter to win a parcel from…me!

Escalating tensions

1 August 2011

After a long day at work involving a trip into Alexandria to meet a volunteer, I am home. I ate Ramen noodles and GF and I watched Sex and the City on E!. Hooray.

If you, dear reader, live in the DC metro area then you know the agony that is Metrorail. Here is my impression of a conversation with Metrorail.

Me- Hello Metrorail. How are you?

Metrorail- That will be $2.20 each way for your trip to work in the morning.

Me- Yikes. That seems steep, but I think it is worth it for such a highly functioning Metro system.

Metrorail- Oh. About that. Actually, If you try to catch me at anytime outside of the 6-9 AM timeframe, then you will be waiting at least 13 minutes for each train, if not 20 minutes or more.

Me- Yeah, but that’s fine for such a cheap price. At least it is a clean and comfortable ride since you have all those signs and strict policies against eating and drinking in the Metrorail system.

Metrorail- Actually, unlike our New York counterpart, we have disgusting carpet and seat cushions that hold non-existent-deity-knows-what in them. At various points, riders have found Ebola, toothpicks, tater tots, king crabs and toxic waste blinding them while heightening all their other senses and giving them radar-like abilities: all within the cushions of our seats.

Me- Ick.

Metrorail- Not to mention all the cars that don’t have air conditioning.

Me- I think I’m leaving now.

Metrorail- Ah. But that is the best of all. You see, at any given point every elevator and escalator in the entire system will be down. In fact, it would be easier to count the number of operational lifts and diagonal people movers.

Me- [No sound except the buzz of radioactive tater tots.]

Escalator repair or Indiana Jones mine adventure?

Into the abyss

The Replacements (Let It Be?)

GF ventures into the unknown.

Safety first. Second? Eighth? Anywhere?

Next stop rejuvenation?