Dispatches From The Metro

You know, sometimes, riding the metro makes me really sad. I don't know if this is related, but it's usually when I didn't get enough sleep and haven't had any caffeine yet. Like this morning. At Woodley Park a bunch of fresh-faced young men and women boarded my car. You could tell that they were new to the whole Metro thing by the way they hogged poles, blocked the door and otherwise made nuisances of themselves. I mean they even talked to each other. Out loud! Since they were opening themselves up to eavesdropping, I, well, dropped a couple of eaves (the brickwife knows that this is a public transportation habit of mine, remember the Nightride?). I quickly learned that these pretty, confident young women and men were all in town for an internship program. Here they were, ready to take on the world, to go out and make a difference. What makes me sad is that, if they stay here in DC, within a year that will be warped, frustrated young people. Their idealism and youthful enthusiasm will be crushed and they will turn into hopeless, bitter, selfish troglodytes.

Just like the rest of us.