You guys. I just can’t hold it in any longer. I know we’ve talked about this before. But ya’ll, YA’LL, I’m going nuts over here. I just CANNOT TAKE IT and need to issue a PSA.
Dear Metro Rider: Here we are, happily co-existing, two lucky seated people on a morning train. I’m reading my Express and doing my best to drown out the world with my ipod. You’re doing your crossword puzzle. We’re two peas in a pod. As we sail from station to station, we’re fine. You’re cool. I’m not thinking anything of you. Until halfway through the journey from our previous station to our next station, you decide it is time to stand up and move towards the door. The tunnel is still dark. The train is still moving. We’re at least a good solid three minutes from the time we’ll even be gliding into the next station, but now! YOUR TIME IS NOW! Something goes “click” inside your bird brain and you just Cannot Sit There Any Longer. So you ask me to move. Now you’ve done it. Here I have to interrupt my happy Express reading, gather my lunchbox, put away my blackberry, stand up, scoot over, make the six people standing next to our seats move, awkwardly grab the pole to keep balanced because I’m not very good at Metro Surfing, drop my lunchbox, pick it back up, apologize to the five people I’ve bumped into, and then at the most inopportune moment the driver slams on the breaks and we all go flying. Then you’re all up on me, stepping on my toes, rubbing your stranger germs on me, and then the Metro driver accelerates and we all fly forward. IT ALWAYS HAPPENS. And we did this whole dance while in motion, in the DARK TUNNEL, FAR AWAY FROM YOUR STOP, just so you can shuffle awkwardly towards the door and hover for the next two minutes.
IF YOU HAD JUST WAITED TIL WE STOPPED ALL OF THIS DRAMZ COULD HAVE BEEN AVOIDED. This? THIS IS MY NEW METRO PET PEEVE. I used to hate Pole Hogs (I still kind of do) but I’ve gotten better about them since I learned some defensive knuckling skills and decided that my new signature style is large cocktail rings (aka weapons of back destruction) and have gotten good at using them. But you? You random-stander-upper-er? I HATE YOU. YOU ARE THE WORST.