The bus fun continued this morning. An extra crowded rush hour bus boasted a special passenger -- the drunken bus rider. Let me just pause here to say that the bus often boasts a wide variety of characters, each more special than the next. But honestly, the rush hour bus is generally full of the working wounded, commuting to work. So the drunken passenger, while not an oddity on the urban bus, is like a white tiger on a rush hour ride.
Anyway, this morning's drunkard was basically harmless, save for his loudly slurred phone conversation, "Ah shaid I'm gonna be there shoon. I'm jusht riding thish bush. I'm gonna be there shoon." But it reminded me of another harmless (seemingly) drunkard I saw on the Metro one morning. For the uninitiated, it's unlawful to eat or drink on Metro . . . this includes bottled water. A few years back, some kid was actually arrested for eating a Snickers (or something) on an escalator going into the station. But I digress . . . One morning I was riding to my former office in Old Town Alexandria, when I looked up to see the man across the aisle calm as anything sitting and drinking a Yuengling out of a can. No paper bag. No attempt at concealment.
I know what you're picturing -- rumpled clothes, bloodshot and glassy eyes, greasy hair, maybe a hat or pair of sunglasses. Nope. He was wearing freshly ironed khakis, a pink short-sleeved polo shirt, and loafers. His hair was freshly washed and he was rosy-cheeked. And he got off at . . . wait for it . . . The Pentagon. And we wonder why national security is the way it is.