Tickle My Kittens

I’ve just recently started taking the Metro to work again, after 2+ years of being one of the pissed-off drivers on I-66 every day. Riding the train has always been one of my dorky pleasures. Maybe it’s because I’m from the Midwest where public transportation is unheard of. Maybe it’s because I like silently judging all the horribly dressed Hill workers each morning. Maybe it’s because I like that the guy who hands out the Examiner says things like “Girl, you looking GOOD in your shades! You have a hot weekend.”  Whatever the reason, though, I’ve been enjoying the train — for the most part. What I’d forgotten about is that, much like in a car, people forget that although they may feel like they’re in their own little world, other people can see them.  I’d like to offer some advice to these passengers, for the benefit of all Metro riders:

Dear Man on the Bus,
The Fairfax Connector is simply not the appropriate place to reapply your Axe body spray. I know the Axe Effect is hard to pass up and if you’re on your way to a romantic rendezvous at 9:30 a.m. I salute you, but let’s consider the proximity to other passengers here. Do you really want to excite the overweight woman who just applied Benadryl cream to her rash-y legs? Although maybe the two of you would be a match made in heaven: You’re both treating the bus like a bathroom.

Dear Girl Sitting Across the Aisle,
I’d appreciate if you could keep that mannequin head hidden properly in the bag you just removed it from. And I’d really appreciate it if you could refrain from brushing said mannequin head’s hair. This action is obviously making you happy, based on the goofy/psycho grin on your face, but your mother should have taught you that disembodied heads — even fake ones — should not be on public display.

Dear Man in the Seat Next to Me,
You are literally inches away from me. This means that I can tell what you’re doing, especially when what you’re doing is totally staring at me. Not stealing glances, not reading over my shoulder — full-on, head-turned-my-direction staring at me, from 4 inches away. May I suggest investing in a periscope? That would be much more covert of you, and would allow you to stare at several different girls more efficiently.

And there you have it. I think those notes should be added to Metro’s roster of clever little etiquette posters, don’t you?