the morning commute

There are three phases to my morning commute. This morning, I was lucky to find blogworthy things that occurred during each phase. Here’s a little rundown for you…

Phase One: walk from apartment to metro
As I’ve blogged about before, the walk to the metro alone can really be quite entertaining. In only a few short blocks, an unlimited amount of comic material can transpire. This morning, as I was walking past a guy who was exiting his home, I heard him exclaim in all seriousness, “morning guys!” Being that there was no one else in the near vicinity besides a neighbor walking his dog, and he was looking in their general direction, I figured I could safely assume that “guys” was directed at both the neighbor and his dog. Shockingly, I only heard one response back.

Phase Two: the metro
In my day, I have witnessed one too many a person who will virtually charge through other commuters just to catch an arriving metro train. Because clearly, the most important thing in the world at that time is getting on that train. This morning, I saw a guy who ran full speed to make the train, but as he was boarding the train, the doors completely closed on him until he was stuck. For those of you not in DC, the metro doors are not like ordinary elevator doors. These things will close on you forcefully, trapping items like bags, coats, and body parts if you don’t heed the “doors closing” warning. Clearly, this guy was a bit overeager to get to work for some reason. Apparently he was not cognizant of the time (rush hour) and that another train would be coming in one minute. Preferring to make it to Phase Three with all body parts intact, I made the more logical decision to wait the extra 50 seconds for the next train to arrive. Who ever said I had poor decision making skills?

Phase Three: walk from metro to work
This phase consists of walking about two blocks from the metro station to work. If I’m exceptionally tired, sometimes I will stop at Starbucks on the way. This morning, as I was exiting Starbucks, coffee in hand, I noticed a cutie looking at me. Being the incredible flirt that I am, I ballsily smiled back at him. The other day at Starbucks, I noticed another cutie showing a bit of interest. After putting two and two together, I realized something – on both occasions, I had just washed my hair. Usually, I will go a day or two without washing it. Don’t worry, I shower. But styling my hair after it’s washed takes a heck of a lot of time when I could be sleeping. Plus, the natural oils are supposedly good for the hair. After Phase Three today, I determined that on days in which I do wash my hair, I get an awful lot of looks, whistles (obviously from the type of men I would be interested in), even some stares. Maybe waking up 20 minutes earlier to wash the mop on “off” days is something to consider.


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