If there is one part of my morning I could do without, it would be transferring at Gallery Pl./Chinatown.

Every morning, without fail, I just get so upset that I just want to beat someone silly with my copy of EXPRESS.

I figure I’ll outline my daily journey, pointing out what could be done without.

Get off Yellow Line and walk through throngs of confused, tired souls towards the Glenmont escalator. This, without fail, will always have at least one person stand on the left side of the escalator and realize they’re being an asshole about 2/3 of the way up.

Once I turn the corner, you’ll have the eager pricks trying to pinball through an entire trainload of people to cut the corner to go to the down escalator. Come on people, an entire trainload of folks is barreling up an escalator and around a corner, do you think the train is miraculously still there?

Throughout this entire trip, are the obese and lazy people… well most of these people are obese because they are lazy, who have to pull their shit behind them in a mini suitcase. Take a fucking cab or I will push you down the escalator.

The next corner to turn is turning left down the Glenmont direction Red Line platform, which is always inordinately crowded. Here’s a novel idea: SPREAD THE FUCK OUT. By doing this, you’ll increase your odds of getting a seat. The Red Line is not a roller coaster; it’s not more fun to ride in the first car.

While waiting for the trains, you sadly notice how lame the “Happy 10th Birthday Verizon Center” signs. It has only been the Verizon center for like 4-5 years. Over on the Hill, there’s still a sign that says MCI CENTER. In addition to those stupid faux tattoos everyone in the ads have, they should change the caption to ‘Happy Birthday building now known as the Verizon Center!”. Next time I want to watch the Wizards get swept by the Cavaliers, eat at the dirtiest McDonalds & Chipotle in the region, or see some shitty concert, I’ll wish the Verizon center a happy birthday, in the interim, I could care less…

After pushing through that crowd of miscreants, one must endure the pungent aroma of brake fluid, unfailingly ever present. How come it’s only EVERY Red Line train that smells like ass? Another reason to hate the Red Line and the residential snobs who take it every day and talk about how ‘convenient’ it is.

Lastly, why are the doors on Red Line trains held open longer? To force the smell of brake fluid on us even longer?

Don’t even get me started about the ‘speed restrictions’ between Gallery place and Judouchiary/ Judishiary/ Judiciary square. (Pick the correct spelling, and you will never be a metro train driver). We all know the ‘speed restrictions’ meant that ‘we’re changing the target advertisement you no longer notice into one for a pick up truck’. Thanks for understanding.