Exciting people on the Metro

This week has been filled with lots of strange happenings, some of them bedbug related and others not. Some of those non-bedbug happenings involve DC’s infamous Metro system. Much like my summer stories of hobos in Detroit, these are things my mother would never want me to experience…story of my life.

Sunday afternoon a group of WLPers was waiting for a Metro, headed to class. On the platform with us was a short man, talking to himself and toting a suitcase. After a few minutes he took what looked like a steak knife out of his suitcase and began sharpening it on one of the metal supports of the Metro. We were all slightly alarmed, but he wasn’t eating on the Metro, so obviously, no problem.

After we boarded the Metro the man sat down near us and began analyzing (out loud) whether each of us might be racist or not. He would identify us as “the brown hair with the white shirt.” He didn’t seem very happy, so I can only conclude that we were all deemed racists.

That was my exciting weekend Metro customer but of course my Monday commute would not be complete without more excitement. While getting off at Union Station, along with hundreds of other Capitol Hill workers, we were in line for the escalator behind a gentleman in a wheelchair. Yes, wheelchair + escalator. The man rolled right on like he knew what he was doing and it went well for a couple seconds, then the stairs started to separate.

The man’s wheelchair began to roll backwards and took out the two rows of people in front of me, my row, and the row behind me. In what must be one of the only moments of solidarity in Metro history the escalator population banned together and slowed the wheelchair’s roll and caught the lovely gentleman inside it. After bracing ourselves we all finished our ascent and the man rolled away like nothing had happened. Those of us behind him were left staring at each other quizzically wondering what on Earth had just happened, and why?