wow. 1/2 inch of snow in DC, and the morning commute is a warzone. i
miss soy snow repellant and “10 ft? no problem!” massachusetts.
*one more thing about commuters: i love, love, LOVE these psychotic bike commuters who wear these superhero skinsuits and have only their eyes showing (or not — if they have sunglasses) and weave in and out of cars like their grandmother’s house is on fire, and they must go save her. they are insane. and i love them. they all seem to have paperback novels sticking
in their backpockets. how dreamy! and none of them wear helmet. gadzooks…*
here’s the breakdown:
car is frosted over everywhere. basically everywhere i clear snow off, it flies into my face and onto me. whine whine. get in car. i live on a really steep hilly driveway. it’s like a black diamond driveway if you’re a skier. i inch down really reeeeeally slowly so as not to incapacitate myself, but about halfway down, the car is like “screw this shit!” and just starts rolling. rolling and rolling RIGHT into the plum middle of the MAIN ROAD. luckily there were no cars speeding by to total me. so after one near-death experience, i merrily inched along to the subway station with obscured vision on 3/4 of the car’s windows.
get to the subway station. park in the middle of an island of ice. yes, i know, brilliant foresight on my part. get out. slide one way. slide another way. start taking premie steps (one level below baby, 2 levels below baby is fetal) towards subway station. other people are gallivanting by briskly. but not i, no. i know my demise involves black ice and i’m not taking any risks. it is my achilles’ heel. so inched there. already FREAKING late.
i swipe my card in and get to the platform. it’s more crowded than a free rolling stones concert. whatever. i can deal with crowds. barely. but i can deal. train comes. get on. it’s going to be an intimate ride.
as we get closer to dc, the train gets more and more packed. i am freely pushed from side to side based on people’s comfort levels and sizes. finally, a large man gets on. yes yes i’m going to be incriminating this large man in the story so you can start getting offended now. large man gets on. tetrises himself right in front of me and a pole, pinning my arm to my side with his buttocks. so while i had been reading my morning paper until this point, i was rendered immobile for the rest of the ride. in fact, the rest of the ride involved me changing direction and shape based on the movements of those around me. at one part, i was trying to avoid crushing this woman’s hand holding onto the pole i was leaning against, so i kind of leaned forward and was more or less horizontally spooning with the large man. in any other situation, it could have been deemed affectionate. maybe it was still interpreted as such.
anyway. we’re getting closer and closer to my stop. freedom. i can taste it. i feel like i’m near the end of the underground railroad. it’s my stop! it’s my stop! i’m so excited. i’m standing more or less near the door i want, unable to move, the door that spells emancipation, and the doors open. and i still can’t MOVE. the large man is compressing me to the side and he can’t move because he’s stuck in the door. so we are both trying to get out the door and neither of us can move. and then some miraculous push from behind sent us both flying out the doors (i wish i was exaggerating but i’m not. it was utterly surreal.) and i felt like i was rebirthed into the world from the womb of the train, kicking and screaming.
i think i’m free. never assume that you’re free. you’re NEVER free. as i swipe my card to go out, i think i’m done. i think the challenges are over. and then the yellow gates CLOSE ON MY HIPS. OW! such injustice has never been achieved on my pelvis before! freaking hellcats! luckily, the subway ride itself rendered me so adept and able that i tetrised myself through those gates anyway by changing the very constitution of my body into freely flowing matter, ran up the escalator, slipped on a piece of ice, and buoyantly continued on to work. i deserve a prize, or at the very least, a certificate of participation. (fin)
2 thoughts on “Commute to Hell and Back”
Whooo hooo! Just when I was sure you had died of terminal crankiness I find you have survived –no, no more than survived TRIUMPHED–ice slicked driveways, over snowy commuters, fat guys,tricky black ice and pelvis crashing yellow gates –man, I’m impressed. >>Welcome back to blogdom
DINKIty DINK!>>I was so excited that someone read my post! i thought perhaps you forgot about me. I see that you you too returned from a hiatus of posting. How funny that the world worked similarly for the both of us. YAY. Happy holidays! I am going to try and post regularly from now on. I did triumph. Reading of your chocolate chicken moustache had me all a-giggle. ~Aparna