It’s designed to be a gradual descent underground. With grace, the walls slope downward, the escalator slowly progresses. Most opt for the left-hand side option and follow the line of people in a hurry: run down the escalator! No handrails for the hurried! I’m tempted to steady them, invade their personal space, pat the quick, smartly-dressed commuters on the head, tell them that the overhead screen said they’ve got a minute to spare. Through the turnstile, they don’t even look down. Since the introduction of SmarTrip, entry is automated – a don’t-think-twice swipe. The volume of their footwear speaks to their nerves. No running in the station.While waiting, they refuse to acknowledge the empty bench seating built for their convenience. They wait standing up with faces that read “I can’t believe this” as if they expected to jump from the escalator and straight into a train car. Disruption cleared. The signs are printed in a ubiquitous typeface with enough spaces between the lettering to be able to see Vienna, Metro Center, Dupont Circle, Bethesda, the names of my destinations from a great distance. There are five lines, any number of directions, each labeled with a basic color from an amateur artist’s color wheel. Maryland has proposed a purple line connecting New Carrollton and Bethesda. I’m okay with waiting. This might have something to do with my own ambition this morning: hardly none. Just saying hi to a friend in a coffeeshop on her birthday. No briefcase. Not even a backpack. Just a SmarTrip card and an umbrella in case it rains. On a bad day, I would resent the amount of packages in my neighbors’ arms, the white wires I trace from their fingers to their brain. In jeans and a t-shirt, I’m going places too! Trains are sharing the same track between… due to scheduled track maintenance. Expect delays on both… Warning lights flash near our feet. I glance quickly to my side to check for unattended children. I always do this. We are startled forward once we hear the train car’s honk, its arrival a refreshing Whoosh! in the face. It blows my hair back. I’ll correct the damage inside. Metro Opens Doors, haven’t you heard? When the train brakes and the doors open, we take a large step over the gap between the train door and the platform. Step back to allow customers to exit. When boarding, please move to the center of the car. The elderly have priority. For an evil second, I wonder: Where do they think they’re going? But it’s about where they’ve gone. We slide into the warm seats of the departed. The train car brightly lit and accelerating, our previous location is black through the windows. I want to take my shoes off but it’s against the rules. Step back. Doors closing.