Pet Peeves: Commuting
Since I have about as many pet peeves as there are stars in the sky, I suspect this will be a recurring feature on this my ragey blog. I’ll start with Metro nuisances, since it’s just so easy.
Girls who carry their lunches in a Victoria’s Secret bag.
Translation: “This delightfully pink bag signals that I pay too much money for underwear and WAY too much money for slutty underwear and as a result am forced to bring my lunch to work.”
People who carry, nay, ROLL, those suitcases behind them on the Metro.
Translation: “I am a classic middle-aged or wannabe-middle-aged DC tool who is too lazy to actually carry the weight of my work on my shoulder(s) and I enjoy taking up two stairs on the escalator.”
Mr./Ms. I-won’t-sit-by-the-Metro-window-seat.
Translation: “I am also a classic DC tool. I can be old and shitty, or young and shitty, or somewhere in between. Mostly I just think I’m a special snowflake who should not be forced to sit against the window, and I will roll my eyes when some base plebian asks me to get up so they can get by me and sit down.”
Tourists.
Translation: “I am from an I-state, and as a result, I have about as much sense as my state border has squiggles. I like to go into the city to sight-see and then come home during rush hour. This way, the train is packed with lifeless commuters AND tired, crying Midwest children. It’s a real equalizer.”
Girls who carry their lunches in a Victoria’s Secret bag.
Translation: “This delightfully pink bag signals that I pay too much money for underwear and WAY too much money for slutty underwear and as a result am forced to bring my lunch to work.”
People who carry, nay, ROLL, those suitcases behind them on the Metro.
Translation: “I am a classic middle-aged or wannabe-middle-aged DC tool who is too lazy to actually carry the weight of my work on my shoulder(s) and I enjoy taking up two stairs on the escalator.”
Mr./Ms. I-won’t-sit-by-the-Metro-window-seat.
Translation: “I am also a classic DC tool. I can be old and shitty, or young and shitty, or somewhere in between. Mostly I just think I’m a special snowflake who should not be forced to sit against the window, and I will roll my eyes when some base plebian asks me to get up so they can get by me and sit down.”
Tourists.
Translation: “I am from an I-state, and as a result, I have about as much sense as my state border has squiggles. I like to go into the city to sight-see and then come home during rush hour. This way, the train is packed with lifeless commuters AND tired, crying Midwest children. It’s a real equalizer.”
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