Thank you for your patience

Back in the early year of this century, I was riding a London Underground Piccadilly Line train home from Heathrow. The driver announced some deficit in service, which I don’t now recall. But a fellow next to me said, “Why do they insist on referring to us as ‘customers’?” I asked, “As opposed to ‘victims’?” and he responded, “They should call us passengers.”

Oh. Right.

Using the District They Call Columbia’s Metro system with some greater frequency than I did the Tube, I’m very often reminded of that somewhat fluid distinction. Between customer and victims, I mean.

Thursday afternoon, for example, my Blue Line train parked with doors open for some minutes at Arlington National Cemetery while the driver repeated something about scheduled (and schedule-impairing) repair work, and eventually got to the point: in addition to the single tracking between Van Dorn Avenue and Franconia stations for the scheduled repairs, they were also suddenly single tracking between National Airport and Braddock Road because of some incident. So we were holding until…well, I’m not sure how long. I just carried on reading my book.

Eventually the doors closed and we got underway. Not before I began some rough calculations about whether I should just get out there and walk home. That actually is an option, although you do not want to have to avail yourself of it at 1700 of an August day.

But yesterday morning my Blue Line train made it to Foggy Bottom, in the District, and then the dreaded open-doored non-movement came to my consciousness. After some time the driver announced that there was a switching issue at the Smithsonian station (five stops up the line) and we were awaiting instruction. Alas, when instruction arrived it was to abandon ship: the train was “out of service” and would be returning to Franconia, in darkest Virginia.

Sorry, suckas.

Well, at somewhere around 0615, of course, Metro staff were thin on the ground. I caught one next to the fare machines and asked the best way to get to Metro Center (which is both an area and a station). He looked at me like I’d ridden in on a turnip truck (which, in a sense, I had done) and gestured to the place whence I’d just emerged. I informed him, no, no trains; nada.

Oh—that was news to him. When he did not feel moved to give me information on getting where I needed to go, I asked again—how do I get to Metro Center. On a bus or walk? Oh—I could take a number 30 bus; cross the street outside and catch the bus.

Well, okay, except that the buses listed on stop across the street did not include a number 30, and (as it happens) any bus stopping there would be headed to Georgetown. Kind of the opposite direction from my destination.

I flagged another uniformed Metro staffer at the corner, asked her how to get to Metro Center, got the same village-idiot look and explained that, no, the train, she no go there; she stop, go back. So this woman directed me to the bus stop across the street (meaning, on the same side as the Foggy Bottom station entrance), and get on any bus. “Any” bus, because she didn’t have any specific route number in mind.

Well, by that time, I lost all faith in any information I was getting, and just decided that I’d go via shanks’ mare. I was unclear about the best route to take—I haven’t walked that area, and it was dark. But I figured that if I was at I Street and 23^rd, I could head in the general direction I thought would take me to 12^th and H. If I seemed to be going astray, I could correct course. But, as it happened, I’d chosen well. When I got to Saint John’s Church and Lafayette Square, I knew I was okay.

In the end, it took me perhaps twice the time that the train ride would have done. It’s around 1.5 miles, and there’s some interesting scenery. So here are my takeaways:

I know I can do it, although I do wish I’d had better walking shoes. Also, I need a bigger smartphone, one that will display a map large enough that I can read.

Metro really ought to train its staff on giving directions on how to get around the city by alternative means, because it seems like the alternatives are increasingly what we need to use. Because Metro is utterly reliable in its unreliability.

As an aside, I notice that—like London Underground—Metro also refers to people who are attempting to get from one place to another on one of their conveyances as customers. I still think it’s odd—passengers might be too hopeful a term for fare-payers, but why not riders?

Finally, I can’t decide whether “Train will be moving shortly” or “We thank you for your patience” should be the official motto of Metro.