Chronicles of the Wayward Moot

WELCOME TO THE MOOT, oh world-wanderers and word-whisperers. After two years of Peace Corps. After 2,200 miles on the Pacific Crest Trail. What. Comes. Next?


Another weird Metro story:

As I walked along the platform today, having just exited my train, I noticed that ahead on the right side, someone was causing quite the commotion at a door on another car of the train. There was a lady standing on the platform facing the doorway and smacking people wildly with a stick as they tried to exit the train just as I had moments before. I approached to better see what was happening. WHACK, WHACK, WHACK! A dark-skinned woman trying to exit the door caught some vicious stick on the knee. Her body type closely resembled the shape of one of those Maersk Sealand shipping containers. "Revoltingly corpulent" didn't cut it. Anyways, she bellowed a hearty "WAIT TILL WE OFF THE TRAIN!" Someone on the platform next to the agressor tried to calm her down, but she kept on whacking into the air at those angry individuals still que'd up to leave. They eventually felt compelled by the call of the conductor to hurry along and forcefully pressed their way through the onslaught, nearly knocking the stick-woman over as they disembarked.

Note to self: If I ever go blind, and my seeing-eye dog is sick, I will NOT head out and try to face the day alone. (Unless I have a seeing-eye midget in tow.)

Other note to self: Hitting someone repeatedly with my cane is NOT likely to get me on the train any faster. Unless I'm hitting them in the eyes. That might do the trick. AIM HIGH!


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