That’s a shot out the window of my fifth-floor office in downtown D.C. For the middle of the day, albeit a holiday, it’s pretty tame.
This morning, I got to the train about 30 minutes early and was one of three people on my car. That didn’t change until four stops in, when I got crowded into my seat by the largest person with the puffiest coat in Prince George’s County. (Note to any random Metro riders who read this: I’m not a small person. You’re dealing with nearly six feet of height and birthing hips. I’m far from your best option when it comes to seating companions.) I didn’t even deal with much of a crowd when I switched at L’Enfant, which is on the “avoid at all costs” list for tomorrow.
When I came out at McPherson Square, it was silent. I walked across I Street without waiting for the crossing signal (sorry, Mom!). There were only two other people in CVS when I bought my diet Mountain Dew. I did notice, however, from a sign on the door that for $5, you can get your picture taken with a Barack Obama cutout. Why my brain lacks the ability to come up with simple, capitalistic ways to make cash, I’ll never understand. I again crossed K Street without a signal and didn’t see a car. Nobody was in the store where I go to buy ice.
I’ve told a couple of friends today that I feel like that guy who walks down the street before a hurricane and says, “Oh, come on. This is nothing. This is just a little thunderstorm.” That sense that this isn’t as bad as everybody said it was going to be and that I’m really going to regret getting on the train hours before I needed. Then there’s the “glass is half-full, but I’ll probably knock it over” sensibilities in me that reassure me it’s better to get to the train at 4 a.m. and get here in plenty of time than wait until 7 a.m. and get to work sometime around noon.
I’ve promised pictures of fun things as I find them and updates through the day, so I hope to not be a giant disappointment (like the Baltimore Ravens to the Charm City. OH! ZING!!). But for now, from the front lines, it’s business as usual. Nothing seems out of place. Nothing seems vastly different. Maybe I’m actually too far from the action to notice. I remain on Fanny Pack Watch.