I took the morning off of work yesterday to get a few errands done. Doctors check-ups that were past due, errands that needed to be run, cleaning that…no, wait…I didn’t do any cleaning.
So when I finally got on the yellow line at 1:30p, I felt happy, well-rested, refreshed. And I sat sprawled in my seat of choice on the empty train, back to the conductor, eyes closed until I felt the sun on my face as we emerged from the tunnel to cross the Potomac River. It’s a beautiful sight, the Potomac from the train. The water reflects sunlight and is, on certain days, smooth as glass. I closed my eyes again and exhaled slowly. Calm.
And then, a burst of laughter. “What train is this!?” exclaimed a woman with a thick African accent (Ethiopian by my estimation). “It’s the yellow line,” the suited Washingtonian beside her said calmly. “To Huntington.”
The woman burst into peals of laughter. “Ah! I’m going to Shady Grove!” I cringed. Shady Grove. That’s not even close. But she continued to laugh.
“Well, this is a very beautiful view!” she gasped between chortles and squawks.
The Washingtonian beside her lowered her newspaper, “You’re not even close. You want to get off at Pentagon, go to the other platform, take the yellow line back towards Ft. Totten, get off at Gallery Place / Chinatown…” But the woman couldn’t stop laughing, and the giver of the corrective instructions fumed a little.
And I too laughed.