1. Bethany. She's rocking a parliament shirt made out of scrub material and a cloth golf visor made of the same material. She has enough hair pins to pick every lock on the Pont Des Art bridge in Paris. Those pin curls are gonna be in place all day dammit!
2. Jerome. He's near and dear to my heart because I know he barbecues in sandals and keeps a sweat rag (white hand towel that he stole out of the set. He uses beer as the marinade for his meat and he only drinks dark liquor. But right now... bruh is wearing silk in summer time. You know what kinda confidence you have to have to ride the metro in this DC summer sauna-like heat?!? I bet he listens to Keith Sweat in his spare time and only uses baby oil for moisture.
3. Natural Natalie. Natalie smells like nature's bounty. I get it. Everyone doesn't use deodorant. They one option I would like to have is being able to opt out of standing in front of her on the metro when it's standing room only. Eyes are watering. Asthma is flaring up. And I beginning to think I can see the bacteria swimming under those pits.
4. Corey. He literally named this because he thinks his core is strong enough to withstand the speed and harsh turns of the metro. You ever watched someone go from total confidence to help in a matter of seconds? You better grab this pole and quit trying to test your might against this train. All it takes is one fall on the metro, you get humbled QUICK. It's like you start question everything you've been taught in life. Like did OJ really write that book about how he really killed Nicole? He's been dumb a long time.
5. Escalator Ellen. Ellen is the person who drags that awful rollie book bag thing on the escalator. I genuinely want to create a lane for rollie bags. They're awful looking and awful to walk behind. Couple that with a fear of escalators and the rest of us are about to run into eachother. That awkward pause that ppl take when exiting an escalator as if I can stop myself from running into them kills me. MOVE. You know good and well, there's nowhere I can go while you make peace with the elevator gods.
6. Ass-firsters. Listen, I already overthink the forced metro interactions. One of the actions that kills me the most is folks who sit down ass first. Like imagine sitting by the window, you look up and there is a whole ass coming at you full speed for the open seat next to you. No acknowledgment, no eye contact just an ass backing up like a dump truck to sit next to you.
7. Sierra. Sierra is an oversharer. She has a full out conversation about her sexual exploits that would put Christian Grey to shame. "Then I told him to... then I... so we both..." Girl, yes I'm slightly hating because it sounds like you had much more excited night than I did. I mean don't get me wrong, I really enjoy Guy's Grocery Games on the Food Network, BUT. I digress. I just didn't need all the detail girl. Like, even erotica novels say less.
8. Shark skin print suit, mocha shoes, navy knitted tie, crisp white shirt, pocket square, hair gelled to the T. Cologne says, Hello, Is it me you're looking for?" Well, yes actually. This Prince Harry doppelgänger almost got a new duchess. Move over Meghan, I'm considering joining the ginger spice club. He smiles at me coyly and I return the same energy. We ride the escalator up for what seems like ten minutes smiling back and forth. This is it when we get to the top, right? Nope. We're instead bombarded by two organizations asking for donations and open mic in Dupont Circle. Between the off key croon of Alicia Keys' "If I ain't got you" and the guilt ridden requests, the crowd separates me from my future. Damn. I would've had him eating mustard greens in no time.
9. Sometimes I pretend to listen to music so I can avoid conversation. It takes a special kinda person to talk to you despite these buds. "I just had to be the gentleman to tell you how beautiful you are." Thanks. "Queen, you are a rare gift, but that blonde..." Look sir, you're about to hotep me to death. You and that patchouli oil can politely keep it moving. Need I remind you that Black folk have blonde hair as well? Either way, I didn't ask for your opinion or your lingering Egyptian musk smell. How would you feel if I start picking you apart for that crooked lining?
10. One a serious note, the metro gives me lots of time to think. And you all probably know by now, I do plenty of that. One of the things I think about a lot is how folks refuse to allow people to sit. For example, an older Black woman gets on the metro. Cane in hand. And folks will just watch her struggle to stand. Giving up my seat is easy because I care. Caring seems to be a fleeting art. Perhaps we should get back to it.
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