“You’re cutting the line”

I’m late. I’m running down the Metro platform late, hoping I can make the dash up the stairs and out into Union Station before my train leaves late. Sweat staining my shirt from all my running late. And as I zip into the crowd of folks at the bottom of the escalator, the folks self-arranged into two lines, one for escalator walkers one for standers, I’m told:

“You’re cutting the line”

Ha! Really now, I’m cutting your fat ass off as I pass in front of you, a escalator stander, into the walker line? If time matters to you, if you should care about the 1.2 seconds I make you wait for me to pass, what the hell are you doing waiting to stand for 5 minutes while the escalator takes its sweet-ass time to ascend twenty feet? Really now, check your head before you check my speed.

This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs

Married, mortgaged, and soon to be a father, Wayan Vota is in the fast lane to mid-life respectability – until the day his brood finds his intimate journal of global traveling and curses him with the ever-eternal reply “I’m gonna be just like you, Dad!”

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