Steve's been pretty good at chronicling the trials and tribulations of D.C's own Railroad Less Traveled - focusing on the costs and METRO's recent decision to take out the seats.
Well, Friday night, I came back from work in a car that had less than the normal number of seats - and guess how the natives were making swell use of that space . . . . . . . . .
AS A URINAL
Thats right, as we are pulling up to the West Falls Church Metro Station Mr. Classy Dad with wife and kid in toe (and rap blasting from his headphones) walks up into the corner - right next to a poor passanger - whips IT out and proceeds to empty a couple of quarts on Metro's fine Italian carpet. Let me tell you, nothing looks as good on metro's puke orange as a little liquid yellow.
Did I mention it stunk??
Well, the guy gets off at West Falls Church and starts telling everybody and nobody that he just couldn't hold it another second longer.
Here's the kicker - as I get to the station manager booth to report this guy (who is stuck behind the barrier because neither he nor his wife has enough KaChing to get out of the system), there's no station manager around. At all.
I go searching, and no one is to be found . . . until I stumble on her yaking on a cell phone and smoking a cigarette (isn't Metro smoke free???)
Well, i tell her, and she doesn't quite get it (I don't think she can speak english) until he comes up and starts sputtering out the jive in defense of his actions.
She didn't seem all that concerned.