i was a little sad, standing in the long line this morning waiting to get through the one turnstile not being blocked by the tourists trying to shove their little metro cards into the slot where the card comes out. it occurred to me that in a few weeks, when i really become s in the city, my commute won't be peppered by these little gems of tourist frustration. i've seen a lot of tourist misadventures on the train - though never quite this situation - and once i start riding the bus, i might miss those. i mean, i might. a little. and really only for metro monday material. the rest of the time i'll just purse my lips and glare.
the train was, not shockingly, totally packed this morning. crammed in tightly next to b, i looked up and noticed one single gray hair in the wash of black on his head. you have a gray hair! i mouthed. seriously!? sweet. this is big news. b has been saying for a while that he wants gray hair. he thinks it's distinguished, and will make him look older and maybe garnish more respect from the people he interacts with at work. we've been joking about looking for a just for men gray - so he can just comb in a little gray around the edges, increasing it ever so slightly every few months.
speaking of just for men, has anyone else noticed osama's new and improved beard? is he trying to look younger? portray youthful optimism? show us he'll be around for a few more decades? two points on this: 1. of all the personal things osama should be working on, his graying hair should be much lower on the list. maybe he should examine why he feels the need to coordinate mass murder, or take care of those pesky kidney issues. frankly, it seems a little vain. and where is he getting that dye? is it some american brand imported from china - do they make hair dye in pakistan? and if it is just for men, this brings me to point #2. homeland security should really consider tracking all shipments of just for men to the middle east. i mean, that man has quite a beard. i bet he touches it up with some regularity. exploit this weakness, dear homeland security.
sorry. back to metro monday. b and i had to switch trains at rosslyn this morning. apparently after labor day, metro turns the heat on in some of the trains. and b is cranky cranky when we're on a hot train, so we decided to transfer to a blue line at rosslyn. oh, also, this girl was totally picking her nails and even gave them a couple of bites right next to b. hearing someone picking their nails is basically as bad as hearing someone run those nails down a chalkboard for b, so we really had no option. he was ready to blow. but just as we're getting off, someone cranked their ipod, and we were both in stitches as we shoved our way off the train. this is the conversation that ensued on the rosslyn platform:
s: did you HEAR that?
b: did i hear that? of course i heard that. the conductor heard that. i thought my sister was on the train.
s: i love it! he was just sitting there, looking all nerdy with his glasses and then ...
b: no, that's not who it was.
s: really? who was it?
b: the kid in the polo shirt.
s: was his collar popped?
s: that's important you know.
b: i know.
s: who was that, anyway?
b: celine dion and bocelli. it's my sister's favorite song ever.
s: hilarious. i think i'll blog this conversation.
b: this is a good metro monday, s.
s: totally. it's like a mega metro monday.