November 13, 2013

As a journalism major, odds are I will probably end up living in a big city for work someday. You would think that after living in Chicago for four years, I would have become more street savvy and possess the simple ability to properly use public transportation. Unfortunately, I guess I’m a slow learner because I still ride the metaphorical and physical struggle bus when trying to get from one place to another.

In high school, my school’s newspaper used to attend National Scholastic Press Association events every year. These were basically huge conventions held in major U.S. cities that allowed journalism lovers and freaks like me to geek out and take seminars about different aspects of student journalism.

I even got to attend a press conference with Daniel Radcliffe once. I was too excited to actually ask a question (I’m pretty sure if I opened my mouth, I would have just openly sobbed while making an inappropriate comment about Ron Weasley), so I just sat there secretly peeing my pants.

One of these conferences happened to be in our beautiful nation’s capital: Washington, D.C. Needless to say, I was excited.

Between seminars, my teacher took us to some of the awesome tourist spots in D.C. The International Spy Museum, the Newseum and even a Washington Capitals hockey game.

Being from Illinois, my newspaper staff obviously didn’t know how insane the city gets after Caps games. The whole weekend, we had just been taking the Metro to and from our hotel. The Metro was generally not that crowded, but after the game, it was jam-packed to the gills. Everyone on my staff quickly hopped onto the soon-to-be moving Metro car, with me following close behind.

Apparently though, not close enough.

I somehow got wedged between the doors of the Metro car: an arm and a leg inside the car, an arm and a leg outside the car and my face basically smooshed between.

I cried for help until the friendly folks of D.C. came to my rescue and pulled my inside arm until I was free of the door’s vise-like grip.

But that was not the end of my perilous ride.

Once I was free, I scurried about the car trying to find a seat. I spotted my friend Katy on the opposite side of the car and started to make my way over to the empty rail above her head. As I approached, however, the conductor apparently decided it was a good time to start the Metro, and the unexpected momentum caused me to fall. Straight into this random dude’s crotch, hands first.

Surprisingly enough, this guy wasn’t too receptive to having a girl on the Metro sucker-punch him in the crotchal region. He gave me the death glare, and I tried to scramble up as quickly as possible only to have the still-moving train’s momentum cause me to pop a squat in this nearly homicidal man’s lap.

I haven’t been a big fan of subways since.

So whether you prefer trains, planes or automobiles, I have some simple advice for you. Plan ahead so you aren’t trying to take public transportation while a big event is going on. Or, if you can’t avoid the crowd, always try to take the earlier ride to avoid being squashed in at the last minute. Or you may just find your hand unwillingly plunging itself into a random guy’s crotch.

Comments

The Maneater has the right to remove comments that do not comply with policies surrounding hate speech.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Skip to content