Thursday, April 14, 2016

The Green line, Aunties and Niglet Boogers

I promise you riding the green line is in my top 10 list of things I hate to do... amongst peeling potatoes, forcing conversations, teabagging, folding laundry... you get the gist. Because riding the green line is something I have to do almost everyday, I've implemented things to make the ride a little more bearable, such as always having a great playlist ready to blast in my ears, trying my best to stare out the window or down at my bag majority of the ride, pulling up an interesting article on my mobile device, obtaining a seat as soon as possible, and so on. But then there's those days when you just can't avoid the wrath of such green line foolery and it really makes me question whether it's even worth commuting to work anymore or just staying home and dealing with the repercussions.

Part of my issue with the green line is where I transfer from the red line to get on the green line at Gallery Place. It's always busy, always packed, always someone acting crazy... Here's a great example of some days...


On top of that, there is a certain population of what I refer to as 'Aunties' (older women who aren't old per say, but they are older than me, similar to our aunties) who always want to be the first to get on the train but move slow as hell walking onto the actual train. This slow walking poses a threat on my ability to secure a seat for my ride to ratchet PG county. So depending on how many people are getting on, there may be some 'throw them bows' moments. I don't want to hurt nobody's Aunties but sometimes it's every man for themselves. The few times I didn't catch a seat, I had to stand up and hold on to germy poles/handle bars and risk getting nauseous from smelly humans being too close to me or someone constantly losing their balance and falling on me. It's a miserable feeling.

Tuesday in particular - work was kicking my ass! I had been on calls all day going back and forth with people who don't follow policy, fix problems from said people not following policy, and sift through multiple reports extracting data just to fix those problems. Needless to say, I didn't want any problems going home. I wanted a peaceful transition onto the train, into a comfortable seat where I can just turn on my music and zone out till I reach my stop.

But God had other plans...

I get to Gallery Place and both my arms are almost removed when I exited the red line because people like to shove themselves on the train before allowing others to come off. Okay. I can deal with a little shove. No worries. I head downstairs to get on the green. I see the Aunties already lined up to get on first. Okay, again... no worries. You got it today Aunties because I don't have any energy to fool with yall. Train pulls up and I let the Aunties get on and follow right behind. As expected, they're moving so damn slow that all the seats get taken. Where does that leave me? Standing up, holding a germy handle bar next to a guy with a knapsack as big as a 5th grader, and a very big woman leaning on the handle bar. The train is packed to capacity. Mmm k... just breathe. We get to L'enfant. More people get on. Now the train is actually over capacity. Like I don't understand how this is even legal. The guy with the knapsack is moving constantly for no reason. Stand the f*ck still my nigga... is what i'm thinking.

Go through a few more stops of limited oxygen... Finally we get to Anacostia and a seat lets up. Yessssssss! I get to sit down. It's next to a mother and her baby that is sitting in her lap. We depart. I notice baby is eating potato chips in slow motion. Potato chips that didn't quite make it to his mouth, start landing on my coat. Okay don't trip, he's just a baby. Moms is just staring out the window unbothered. You know how yall do. I look down at baby and he starts picking his nose. He then leaves the finger lodged in his nose for a good 30 seconds and starts staring back at me. In my head i'm like if this little niglet pulls a booger out his nose that lands on me, I'm going to scream. We're having a staring contest. Now I see why when you're young, you're taught staring is rude. Because children seem to be the biggest staring offenders of mankind. They stare directly into your eyes and don't stop staring.

We get to Naylor Rd. Here I am staring at this baby with his finger up his nose. He finally takes it out and a booger rests right above his lip. Grosssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss.

Before he realizes it's there and tries to remove it, I think it's time I stand up again. Fuck it. Only 2 more stops, I'll survive. I get up. He starts to eat his chips again but continues staring at me. As soon as I get up - I hear unbothered moms say "Stop dropping ya chips on me..." Really chic...

Homeboy with the knapsack is now sitting on the damn floor and I almost damn near trip over him. I'm over this train ride. I finally reach my stop and bolt off the train, up the steps, through the turnstile, and straight to my damn car.

Dear Aunties,
You will get shoved next time
you proceed to walk onto the train
very slowly and make me miss
an opportunity at choosing a good seat.
Signed,
Frustrated Rider

#metrochronicles