Commute From Hell

I arrived at the metro station shortly after 5:30. Signs had been posted to inform everyone that there were severe delays on the metro and alternate routes were suggested. I didn't have another option, so I walked through the turnstile and down to the crowded platform.

While I was waiting for the train, a recorded announcement on a loop informed me that a passenger had been struck by a train, and the metro was not running between Rosslyn and Ballston (that's five stops). Shuttle service was being provided for passengers between the two stations (if you lived somewhere between them, I imagine you were on your own).

The train arrived and, miraculously, I managed to squeeze onto it. Fifteen minutes later we had traveled the two stops to Rosslyn. Since the track was closed beyond Rosslyn, we had to wait for the train ahead of us to unload, then back up to the track switch before we could pull in.

The platform was beyond crowded. There almost wasn't enough room to unload the train. And once we did all squeeze onto the platform, no one was moving. Every now and then the people on the escalator would ascend a few steps and everyone would shuffle forward. It took me twenty minutes to get upstairs.

I was waiting in the crowd on the upper platform when there was an announcement that the station was closed and everyone needed to exit. That sent a wave of laughter through the crowd. What else had we been trying to do for the last half hour? But closing the station did help, and we began to move a little faster.

Eventually I made it to the foot of the escalators where I discovered the bottleneck problem: none of the escalators were running. Everyone had to climb up the stairs. This wouldn't be that big of a deal except that Rosslyn has incredibly long escalators. Every so often someone would faint or find themselves unable to move on. Then we would need to wait for the escalator to clear out so paramedics could descend and offer water and oxygen to that person before helping him or her to the top.

I finally made it to the street around 6:30. The line for the shuttle to Ballston was too long to comprehend, and traffic was barely moving at this point anyway. So I started walking, following the mob of people who had the same idea. During this walk I heard snippets of gossip. The man who had been struck by a train had apparently jumped in front of it. He was alive and conscious. Trains still weren't running.

Half an hour later I got Boyfriend on the phone and asked him to meet me in Clarendon for dinner. Stopping for a glass of wine and some food seemed a much better option than walking the remaining mile to the Ballston station where the trains would hopefully be running. So he came to meet me and we had a lovely dinner and drinks and didn't go home until traffic had cleared up. At least I got my silver lining. And between the huge staircase at Rosslyn and the hike to Clarendon, I didn't even feel guilty about not making it to the gym.

I also manged to read about 10% of A Feast For Crows since I didn't really have anything else to do. I might actually finish it by the weekend.