The Rules of Mountain Climbing

I'm slowly climbing up the left side of the Bethesda Metro escalator. It is seriously crowded. The man behind me is fussy. He doesn't like how we have to stop every so often. He wants to know what the hold up is, or so he says.

I understand he is aggravated. His aggravation is aggravating me probably just as much as his impatience is aggravating him. I want to turn around and tell him to relax. Maybe some little kid is ahead of us and he wants to see if he can climb it all by himself. Maybe its an old man and he wants to know he still can. Maybe its another chick like me and she's fallen a few times.

I want to tell him he doesn't matter and the world would go on without him, so it isn't going to speed up or slow down for him either. Not today. No one likes waiting in line, too bad. Don't try to explain to me that you've got it all figured out that you couldn't use a couple minutes with nothing to do but wait and think. If this line is going to make you late, that's your fault. Be better prepared.

Right now he is probably forgetting his sister's birthday. Stop and think please, no one cares what your cruise control is set to. Get on your fancy phone and start apologizing to whomever you're holding up. And don't blame the escalator for adding two minutes to your commute, get up earlier.

Be human please, and do not assume I am with you, don't expect me to second your ridiculous mumblings. I know damn well my existence isn't worth the fuss. Keep your head down, mouth shut and climb with the rest of us. The person behind you would catch you if you were stricken with a heart attack just now, we wouldn't let you fall back. So don't worry if we can't let you run past. Take what you can get.