I left the house early this morning, people. EARLY. I would have been fifteen minutes early to work! It should have been a banner day. But NO. Instead, there were massive delays on the red line. I waited at Union Station for twenty minutes before a train came. As I wasn't up for squeezing myself into the ever-growing human blob on the train, I waited for the next. It was due in a mere minute, and I was glad of my choice. It was practically empty, and I scored my favorite spot by the door.
You see, I have a fairly simple, easily envied four-stop commute. It's grand! I take the red line two stops to Chinatown, and then I switch to either the green or yellow line to travel two stops to L'Enfant Plaza (and let me tell you - if one of those motherfucking "new" green line trains pulls into the station, I love that I have the choice to wait for the yellow line. There is NOWHERE to hold on in those green rail travesties, because I am petite and George Bush doesn't care about short people!).
As I chilled by the door, we arrived at Judiciary Square. "Doors opening!" And then I swore I heard... "Doors never, EVER closing! MWUH HA HA!"
Oh my God, I was on the death train!
Enjoy your ride... to HELL!!!
I had a book, so I busied myself with that and tried to ignore the delay. But... after about ten minutes of idling at Judiciary Square, the very frustrated conductor announces that, "This train is out of service!" Oh, AWESOME. I didn't stand on the platform long before realizing that I could just walk to the Archives stop from there. And that's what I did. I hopped on a green line train (one of the older ones, thank the FSM), and finally arrived at work at 8:30.
I was still the FIRST ONE HERE.
And yet...
I'm not really annoyed. I was proud of my fellow commuters this morning. There was very little grumbling, very little swearing and yelling into space about the incompetence of the metro system, and absolutely no kicking and punching of the train itself (trust me, I've seen it). I got to work, got some lovely fruit from the salad bar downstairs, and I just remembered that tomorrow is my Friday off. Sweet!
So... see? It's not so bad.
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