The Horror. The Horror.

First, some takeaways from yesterday's subcommittee hearing:

• All agree Metro needs more money.
• All agree the supposed regulatory/oversight bodies have no power.
• Holmes Norton didn't really want an answer to her own question about whether or not we are safer having moved the 1000-series cars to the middles of trains.
• NTSB didn't want to answer above question.
  
• Catoe "welcomes oversight."
• Holmes Norton should aim her indignation at someone other than the NTSB.
• The main eye witness of the Red Line crash was about an hour late because of, you guessed it, Red Line delays.

Read an article about it here. We'll see what happens.

Now, onto the Orange Line commute yesterday--you can't have all the drama, Red Line.
It was bad enough that there were about 20--no exaggeration--stops between Federal Center SW and Foggy Bottom, and the trip took at least twice as long as it should have. Seems a train went out of service, which snowballed into delays up and down the line.
But we're becoming inure to these minimetromeltdowns, as sad as that is. What really made the commute sucky was a fellow passenger, and this post is dedicated to him.

Dear really overweight dude with the too small khaki pants, blue checkered shirt, twisted collar and beard:

We thought we'd give you some not-so-friendly but well intentioned advice for your future Metro trips.
You looked reasonable, and we hope you'll at least hear us out.
We don't think you were homeless, as you appeared to have bathed within a few days, and your clothes were not smeared with filth.
You looked like you have a job, as you had several electronic devices strapped to your belt.
You must be possessed of some intelligence, as you were reading a weighty looking tome about Islam, Iraq and somesuch.
Your general upkeep could use a bit of work, but from a distance, you probably look like most of us regular Metro schlubs.
But we think it's time you learned about a magical product you should invest in. It's called deodorant.
It's not expensive, and you can get it at lots of places. It's not embarrassing to buy either. No one will laugh or raise an eyebrow.
Seriously, don't you smell the acrid fetidness each time you raise your arm to adjust your grip on the pole?
You need to cover up or eradicate whatever is stewing in your armpits.
Don't you see the others around you mouth breathing?
You have a kill radius of several meters, and outside of that, your foul stench brings people to tears.
Your BO is a WMD.
The woman right next to you was fighting through a gagging attack. Several others had a shell shocked look on their faces.
We still have your noxious funk singed into our nostrils, and it was hours ago that we found ourselves unlucky enough to be pressed against you for way longer than we ever wanted to be.
Yet you seemed oblivious.
Come on dude. It's Metro. We're already grumpy. We don't need your villainous stink making it worse.

Here, we'll make it easy (via CVS)

Thanks!

Other items:
Red Line victim doesn't trust Metro (Examiner)