Friday, November 25, 2005

Near Accidents, Bums, and Metro Rides

This post is dedicated to a Nothern Virginia Suburbian's commute to D.C.

I'm sure you've never heard this before...EVERYBODY DRIVES LIKE POO!!! (but me.) On the way home this evening my dad almost got us into two accidents, which wouldn't have been his fault, but while cars cruised past stop signs into our right-of-way my father never hit the brake and I held my breath and side-squinting for the imminent crash: air bags smashing my nose, snapping my neck and from outta nowhere bambi lands on our windshield blood filling the cracked glass. The power of imagination.

At Virginia Tech there were a lot of people I recognized but never knew their name. Now I recognize bums that live around my office. There's longhaired dude that sits on his suitcase across from the coffee shop. Dude that rocks back and forth in front of Potbelly’s. My favorite bum is the one that stands outside of McDonalds. I was walking past the other day when she asked a suit for money, he said "I'll get you a cheeseburger," and she said "no, get me a salad with Italian dressing." Bums are watching their figures...or old bread soaks up too much alcohol. I am a horrible person. I knew that when I was 6 and we left Natural History Museum and walked past a bum, probably staring. My little sister demands money from my dad to give to him. I felt really bad I didn't ask my dad for money.

Riding the metro during rush hour is lame; everyone is depressed, angry, tired. The atmosphere doesn't cheer up during the holidays. Again, I think back to college and "the drunk bus", everyone is drunk, everyone socializes, everyone sings and someone always pukes. (I had a conversation with a bus driver about bus-puking once; if you ride a bus in Blacksburg, don't touch anything.) Maybe Budweiser should build the Washington Transportation Authority's planned extension if the Metro. Free kind of advertising.


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