The Drunk Train

I've boasted before of being on the last train back to Virginia but in fact I was probably a good one or two trains ahead of the last one. But this past Saturday (or very early Sunday morning, depending on how you look at it) I truly was on the last one. I was out with a friend in Adams Morgan that night and while tucked away on a couch at Tryst, I suddenly realized what time it was and that we had to get back to the Metro ASAP lest we be at the mercy of the DC cab driver.

We got to the Dupont Circle station with only four minutes to spare before the next red line train, which would only take me as far as Metro Center. I wasn't even sure if there would be one waiting there to take me back to Crystal City. But as I stepped onto the train and waved goodbye to my friend on the opposite platform, I realized that I had stepped into a different world.

Now my time on the Metro is typically spent in either quiet solitude reading or conversing with my friends at a subdued volume level. By contrast, this train had the noise level of a rock concert. Just as many people were standing as were sitting, each yelling to be overhead above the din. Some were even doing shots which got whoops of encouragement and rounds of applause from the other passengers. I could not believe my eyes as I had finally arrived at the place I'd only heard about in legend: The Drunk Train.

Like freedom, The Drunk Train is more of an idea than an actual thing. It almost always inhabits the last train of the night and moves from line to line depending on where the crowd goes. Fortunately, the majority of them were heading towards Virginia and so at Metro Center we all got onto the orange line to continue the debauchery. The thick wall that city dwellers typically erect around themselves during normal hours had been breached by booze making conversation plentiful and enjoyable.

I didn't get back to my apartment until almost 3:30am thanks to delays and transfers but quite honestly I didn't care. I had such a great time just talking to people and getting to know them that I could definitely see myself doing it again. The Drunk Train is something that everybody should do at least once in their lifetime.

An interesting night in DC

Late last night (or early morning, depending on how you look at it) my buddy Jeff arrived in Washington, DC. We met back in high school and have been friends ever since. Considering the late arrival of his flight, we had somewhat of a late start on the day and didn't get to the American History museum until 11:15am on Friday morning. There we met my cousin Katy and we explored the America on the Move exhibit. We also stood in awe of the American flag which had been draped over the Pentagon immediately following the attacks of 9/11.

Afterwards we headed over to the Holocaust Memorial Museum. This was by far one of the best museums I have visited yet in DC. From the very beginning, you are made to feel as if you are in Dachau or one of the other hellish concentration camps located throughout WWII-era Germany. In addition, the cruelty and pure evil that pervaded that time truly came to life through photographs and other media presentations.

Having decided that Jeff needed to experience some more positive parts of DC, I figured that Les Halles would be the best place to show off the city. We had an awesome lunch that left me postively stuffed. After experiencing some nasty delays on the Metro, we finally saw my cousin Katy off at the Rosslyn station and headed back to my place in Crystal City to prepare for that evening.

At around 9:30pm we met up with Sally, a fellow graduate of Carlsbad High School that Jeff knew through friends, in Dupont circle. We began the evening at Gazuza, a favorite of mine known for its excellent drinks and hookahs. After a few hours the conversation turned intellectual and it was then that we decided to go to Kramer's, one of the most well-known bookshops in the area that also happened to have a full service bar. After a few more hours there, we were ready to head home on the Metro.

It was here that the night took a most interesting turn. While Jeff and Sally were firmly planted in their seats, I was indulging in an activity called 'Metro Surfing' which essentially involves trying to stay upright on the Metro without benefit of handholds. It's more difficult than it sounds, especially when drunk. Little did I know that a small man sitting nearby was taking notice.

Now I'm not sure what set this individual off but when he moved to exit the Metro at Rosslyn station, he suddenly turned to look at me and assaulted me with every verbal invective known to Man. Most of it involved the words queer, faggot and homo. My inquiries as to why he was so angry at me invited only more hate speech. After 30 seconds of this, I suddenly came to feel very sorry for this person. My initial anger turned to a light-hearted form of sympathy and I began to taunt him, definitely not one of my brighter moves. I asked him where his local Klan meeting was and and told him that I consistently voted Democrat which only seemed to agitate him more. Eventually Sally made it clear that she did not feel comfortable with the situation so I shut my mouth until he stepped off the Metro, the doors closed and we continued on our way.

When I was in the Holocaust museum earlier that day, it was difficult to understand how someone could hate someone else so much without knowing that person. Tonight on the Metro, that exact kind of hatred was directed at me. This person was obviously a small-minded and deranged individual but he is not the only one. We must always be aware of people of like this and realize that it can spring up in even the most diverse and tolerant of places.

Pedro on the Metro!

On July 8th my buddy Pedro that I've known since college was in town and I met up with him and his folks in DC. Thinking that I would have to meet them at the Jefferson Memorial, I took the yellow line in and popped up at L'Enfant Plaza. Being as it was my first time at that particular stop I was a bit bewildered at first but eventually got oriented and started off. As luck would have it though, Pedro and family were still up at the mall. So I jumped back onto the Metro, the orange line this time, and met them just outside the Smithsonian station.

The last time I had seen Pedro was several years earlier when he visited me in Melbourne and we saw Return of the King together. He looked just about as I remember him and I also had the pleasure of meeting his father and step-mother. Naturally our talk soon turned to programming. It sounds like his doctoral studies are going well at University of Florida and he was impressed by my recent conversion to Ruby. Purdue of course also came up and what our mutual friends from college were up to.

We talked a lot while walking over to have lunch at Les Halles located on Pennsylvania Avenue. It was an awesome meal and to boot Pedro and I shared a 750ml bottle of Chimay, one of my favorite beers. Afterwards we walked to the Federal Triangle Metro station since Pedro and family were going to spend the rest of the day in Springfield and I figured we might as well all take the blue line. I got off at my stop wishing I could have spent more time with them but time constraints being as they were prevented that. Still, I was glad to see an old friend again.