
From Patrick:
Apparently, Metro is still a little groggy from the holidays, or at least it seems that way judging by the sleepy maintenance personnel, frustrated drivers, and central control that would appear to be run by a crack team of flustered 16 year-old maitre’d.
Leaving work at 5:10 yesterday evening, I encountered a massive crowd at Metro Center, we waited for about 6 minutes for an Orange line train to arrive while more people poured in from the Red Line. A sense of impending fail set in.
Upon arrival, the train was already packed to the gills. Squeezing my way on, I received: one “We can’t fit anymore,” two elbow jabs, and three dagger stares of contempt for daring to move away from the doors.
At McPherson, Farragut and Foggy the car slowly transformed into a Spinoza-esque mass of undulating bodies, unified in its discontent and emboldened by the sage announcements of the driver which included: “There is another train just a few minutes behind” (lie), “Please don’t lean on the door” (warning), “We will have to take the train out of service” (threat). His admonishments fell on deaf ears.
At Rosslyn we finally achieved critical mass, which was accompanied by an acrid stew-like smell – the combination of Metro electrical stink, brake pads and anger.
After fourteen attempts to close the doors, we offloaded. Some passengers resolutely refused, especially in the rear of train, traveling out of the station to the seventh layer of Hell where all offloaded trains go.
Meanwhile, the crowd on the Rosslyn platform was backed up to the turnstiles on the second floor; apparently BOTH directions on the Orange Line had been foiled by cantankerous door malfunctions.
Sensing another two-hour Orange Line commute, I took the next Blue Line train out of Rosslyn, pushing my way through the determined crowd of Orange Line riders. I eventually pleaded with a family member to pick me up at Pentagon City. After a 40-minute ride, I was back home.
Déjà vu! Arriving at East Falls Church this morning at 8:20, I was greeted by my friends from last night, a crowd five or six people deep was waiting anxiously to board trains that were already sardine-can level.
I think I have lost my will to deal with this system. I am seriously thinking of investing in cold weather clothing so I can bike to work. I may end up with nasal icicles, but anything is better than the Orange Line.
Just for fun, next time you are stuck on a platform, play a game of “Would you rather” with your fellow riders, you might be surprised.
In conclusion, go to hell Metro.
















