WAMTA

Everyday I take the 45 minute metro ride into downtown DC to go to work...
It's a hassle. you park a mile away just to sit next to someone who doesn't smell all that good while you hope and pray that the red line crash will never happen to the train you're on.

Sometimes I find myself staring at the people around me. Literally staring. Wondering who they are. Where they're from. What they're thinking. Where they're going. What their life is like. If they're thinking the same thing I am. If they notice I'm staring and wondering what I'm thinking about...

Sometimes I try to figure out their story. And pretend I know everything about them, and hope one day I can find out to see if I was right or not. Though, I would never actually go ask them all these questions to try to confirm my suspicions; the make believe worlds I imagine we all live in stay inside my head.

There's the bitter, 26-year-old, black woman in her business suit, stilettos, and a short, trendy haircut, giving everyone around her the evil eye. Trying to avoid letting anyone touch her expensive leather bag, sitting as close to the window as possible. Sunglasses on. Ipod blasting. Nose in the air. Counting down to the very second when she can gracefully run off the train away from these god-forsaken people.... who might breathe in her direction.
But, lets just say she's not a bitch. Of course, all the signs point to bitch. They point to MAJOR bitch. I stare at her wonder if she's socially awkward, or if her face is stuck that way, or if she's claustrophobic causing her to be socially awkward, if she had a traumatizing childhood, or if she lost her iPhone on the way in this morning..

What if the nice man quietly reading his newspaper is actually a spy?
What if the woman sitting next to you murdered 12 people but was never convicted?
Could the driver of the train be suicidal, therefore potentially ruining your life too?

Why is that guy shaking his leg so fast? and Why are you breathing so hard? What if you fell out right now? I don't know what the hell to do...

These things boggle my mind EVERY.SINGLE.MORNING. and before I know it, the 45 minutes are over...