Notes from a Slug

This morning I slugged with a man heading to Rosslyn. This requires a one-stop train ride to get to my office, so I climbed in. In the first three minutes of the car ride he said the following things.

• "Idiot."
• "Come on, lady."
• "Nice bumper sticker." {with sarcasm}
• "I will cut you off."
• "You gotta love when HOV enforcement screws up HOV lanes."
• "They're dedicating the Wilson Bridge this morning and caused an eight and a half mile back up."
• "Just tell the people who are driving to stop looking and keep driving."

What a bundle of sunshine this morning!

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Two weeks ago a woman sat next to me on the bus. A quick note on my bus. My bus is full of commuters. We sleep. We read. We use our BlackBerrys. We sudoku. But we do not talk. This woman somehow struck up a conversation with a woman two seats away about the other woman's BlackBerry, and proceeded to give her step-by-step instructions on how to change a ringtone. But better than that was my description of her, composed realtime on my BlackBerry for you, my blog readers.

You wouldn't believe the woman next to me on the bus. Brown corduroy pants, green off the shoulder top with red bra straps showing. Way over fake-baked skin, platinum dyed hair, and fake french-tip nails that are hideous. She was talking to someone earlier in a very loud, very whiskey tango voice.

I love commuting.