Notes from Underground

He would often be on the subway car when the train pulled up each morning, and then we'd concurrently transfer to the University of Maryland shuttle bus. The thought of extending a greeting to an attractive stranger during the early morning commute seemed too bold for me. It would have been especially awkward saying hello after a few weeks passed. What was I to say: "Do you ride to College Park?" The statement would have been all too artificial given we shared space multiple days a week. What if he turned out to be obsessive? Not interested? Mute?

Rejection is difficult enough to take. Rejection faced routinely prior to my morning coffee . . . now that's something I could do without.

After a few weeks, I landed a rental and mentally said farewell to the romance that almost wasn't. My new commute differed slightly in that I was now leaving from the U Street/Cardozo stop. I'm still surprised I didn't drop my Washington Post Express in shock when, on the first day of my new commute, there on the platform stood Metro Boy. After a couple of self-inflicted kicks to my butt, I finally worked up the urge to say, in a manner completely lacking any wit or confidence, "I think we have the same commute." His response: "We do." A year and a half later, we have the same commute -- except now it's from our house in our car.

-- Joey DeSanto, Washington

THANKS FOR THE TIP

When I boarded Metro one afternoon, a woman about 35 was turned in her seat talking to an older man about three empty rows down from her. Across from the woman was a boy, about 18, wearing a Georgetown University sweat shirt. The older man and woman were talking about sex. As she gathered her luggage to leave the train, she jotted something down on a notepad. She folded it, and held it in her hand and stood by her seat as the train slowed on its approach into the station.

"Metro Center. Doors opening on the right."

"Listen," she said loudly, turning to face the man directly. "I know about these things. I helped compile research on men's and women's orgasms. Believe me, I know what I'm talking about."

"Okay, okay, okay," the man said.

"Doors opening."

She walked toward the door to leave the train, casually handed the folded note to the startled boy and continued out the train door. He unfolded the note and read it. Refolding it, he looked straight ahead for a second or two before he bolted from his seat and ran out the door behind her.

"Doors closing."

-- Tom Smith, Silver Spring