

There have been a lot of nominees to the Rider Hall of Shame, but the other day, Unsuck spotted a true grand champion—perhaps only surpassed in suckitude by those who poop on the seats.
It should be noted that this is the first time a fellow passenger has ever put Unsuck on the verge of getting sick and creating a human fluid isolation car. The nose pickers, nail clippers et. al. are bush league in comparison.
In the evenings, Unsuck gets on the westbound Orange Line at Federal Center SW. The train is pretty much empty there if you get on the first car, so there's always seating. Normally, Unsuck chooses the back left corner seat of the first car.
Engrossed in a book, we did sense someone sit down in the seat in front of us, but soon, her presence was undeniable as she began to huff and puff as she took off a coat and then another coat. A stray sleeve grazed Unsuck's face. She noticed. No response.
Then the coughing began. A horrible, deep, phlegm-filled hack. And of course, she didn't put her hand or elbow over her mouth. She was a one-lady germ warfare machine.
Sensing a Hall of Shame contender in our midst, we didn't want to move too far away, but we didn't want to catch the plague either, so we hopped over to the other side of the car.
And then the scratching began. She hiked up her skirt above the knees and pulled down her black, knee high stockings and began to deeply and vigorously scratch and scratch and scratch all around her calves and shins. First one leg, then the other and back. There was no apparent inflammation or rash, which was the only silver lining.
And finally, as if she wasn't already making everyone in eyesight queasy, she reached into one of her three huge bags and pulled out a big wad of napkins which she then used to wipe up the copious blood she'd drawn from all the scratching. You could tell the blood was running by the way she swiped the napkins upward, as if stemming a stream.
She did this for a couple stops, and as the train filled, some poor bastard sat down next to her but quickly opted for standing once he realized what was going on.
The blood daubing went on and on til the napkins were pretty well soaked with blood.
Once the train got above ground after Ballston, the woman turned around and asked an unwitting fellow rider if she could use her cell phone! It was yet another reason to be thankful we'd moved.
Reluctantly, the naive passenger agreed and ol' bloody nails Bertha began to have a long, chatty conversation with god knows who. She was still blabbing when we got off at East Falls Church.
Stepping out of a stale Metro car into the fresh air has never felt so good.
Other items:
Green Line may be sucky all day (WUSA9)
Usually, when quality and demand falls, so does the price. Not with WMATA. (WTOP)
Examiner take on coming fare hikes