Week in Review
Several events transpired this week that led me to believe that I should share with the world my adventures in commuting. Let me begin by saying that I spend nearly three (3) hours each day getting to and from work. My modes of transportation include my feet, bus, and train. In fact, I take two buses and two trains one-way, and not in that order. Walk-bus-train-train-bus-walk. That's the exact order. Crazy, huh?
I've started to make friends on my travels - especially on the bus - which is isn't surprising considering I'm usually a) one of a handful a females, b) the only white person and/or c) the only passenger over the age of 10 yet under the age of 55. Indeed, I am the glaring exception to the rule of the late-middle-aged black male bus rider who usually frequents the H6 or B8.
That being said, my bus rides are rarely anything other than pleasant. I read, I stare out the window, I engage in conversation with someone I know or with a total stranger, and I often listen to music. My rides lately, however, have become much more than the average iPod-soundtracked, Washington Post express-strewn, sweat-inducing slogs through the urban landscape.
To wit: On Tuesday of last week as I was leaving work early to attend a job fair, another passenger pointed out that I had lost an earring. "But I know where it is," he explained, letting me know that he had found it by the road and carefully placed it "in the first big crack on sidewalk. You know, right after you cross the street and head toward the building." Oh. That crack in the sidewalk. I thanked him and kissed by earring goodbye. On Wednesday morning, however, I dutifully crouched over to examine the cracked sidewalk and - lo and behold! - there was the earring. Seriously. I fully expected never to see it again, but my fellow commuter was a good man, indeed. And I have the matching pair of dangly, faux-rhinestone (yes, they're that cheap) earrings to prove it.
Even more amazing, when I headed home on the bus later on Wednesday, a passenger whom I didn't recognize asked me if I'd found my earring. I smiled a big "Yes," and reminded myself that everybody on the bus knew everybody else on the bus's business.
That was but a single event in a commuting week that involved seeing CPR performed on a Metro platform, riding in the most broken bus ever to grace the H6 route, a bus driver and passenger discussing the merits of various Riverdance troupes, and a passenger on a scooter who gave a historic tour of Rhode Island Avenue by pointing out all of the locations where he used to sell drugs. It can only get better.
I've started to make friends on my travels - especially on the bus - which is isn't surprising considering I'm usually a) one of a handful a females, b) the only white person and/or c) the only passenger over the age of 10 yet under the age of 55. Indeed, I am the glaring exception to the rule of the late-middle-aged black male bus rider who usually frequents the H6 or B8.
That being said, my bus rides are rarely anything other than pleasant. I read, I stare out the window, I engage in conversation with someone I know or with a total stranger, and I often listen to music. My rides lately, however, have become much more than the average iPod-soundtracked, Washington Post express-strewn, sweat-inducing slogs through the urban landscape.
To wit: On Tuesday of last week as I was leaving work early to attend a job fair, another passenger pointed out that I had lost an earring. "But I know where it is," he explained, letting me know that he had found it by the road and carefully placed it "in the first big crack on sidewalk. You know, right after you cross the street and head toward the building." Oh. That crack in the sidewalk. I thanked him and kissed by earring goodbye. On Wednesday morning, however, I dutifully crouched over to examine the cracked sidewalk and - lo and behold! - there was the earring. Seriously. I fully expected never to see it again, but my fellow commuter was a good man, indeed. And I have the matching pair of dangly, faux-rhinestone (yes, they're that cheap) earrings to prove it.
Even more amazing, when I headed home on the bus later on Wednesday, a passenger whom I didn't recognize asked me if I'd found my earring. I smiled a big "Yes," and reminded myself that everybody on the bus knew everybody else on the bus's business.
That was but a single event in a commuting week that involved seeing CPR performed on a Metro platform, riding in the most broken bus ever to grace the H6 route, a bus driver and passenger discussing the merits of various Riverdance troupes, and a passenger on a scooter who gave a historic tour of Rhode Island Avenue by pointing out all of the locations where he used to sell drugs. It can only get better.
posted by EmilyHaHa at 1:46 PM
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