A great thing happened to me today . . . I was asked for directions. Now this isn’t that abnormal, I see people ask for directions several times on any given day. It is just not me they ask. Despite my attempts to blend in, I still stick out as an out-of-towner. Perhaps this is due to my “non-DC” practices (such as not honking at people who are obeying the law, or waiting to cross the street until I get a walk signal, or simply stopping and looking at the monuments). Or maybe people from the Midwest just have a different aura to them. Whatever it is, when someone needs directions, they always give me the “this guy doesn’t know anything” look and move on to someone standing directly next to me.
Attempting to combat this “sticking-out-like-a-sore-thumb syndrome,” I take several proactive steps every day to become more DC’ish. For example, Lauren and I purchased reloadable Metro cards (similar to a K-Tag) that let us walk directly through the Metro’s turnstiles rather than stopping to feed a temporary paper ticket through the reader. I have perfected a system where I keep walking through the turnstile without ever having to take the card out of my wallet. This method has backfired, however. During rush hour, everyone is filing through the lines so quickly that if one person screws up it produces a domino effect, slowing everyone in the line down. The other day I was that one person. Being a bit too cocky I missed the scanner and ran into the unopened barriers of the turnstile. This required everyone to stop walking and backup so I could reverse and try again. I looked back and could tell everyone was thinking, “Look at this moron from Kansas, he is going to make me miss my train!” Strike one . . .
Another technique I practice is to ride the train for the entirety of my commute without holding on (others just look so cool doing it!). Through observation as well as trial and error, I have come up with a system where I stand sideways with my feet shoulder-width apart, slightly leaning against the wall of the car. This is normally pretty effective, unless we have an abrupt stop or fast curve. In that case, I fall into everyone around me, grabbing onto them to keep from hitting the floor. This is particularly awkward because, as mentioned in a previous post, people on the train don’t talk during the commute (it is literally dead silent). Thus I am faced with an undesirable choice. I can apologize, at which point everyone on the 100-passenger car turns to see what is going on to find an uncoordinated kid from Kansas hanging onto his neighbor for dear life. Or I can say nothing, at which point I get to play the staring game for the rest of the ride with the guy I just accosted (awkward . . . ). I always apologize. Strike two . . .
My final DC’ism is reading a newspaper while walking down the sidewalk. This is what I was doing this morning when asked for directions. This practice is almost guaranteed to be effective because nothing says ‘I know the city’ better than not having to look where you are going. So this morning I was walking along reading “The Onion” (which is hilarious by the way, I highly recommend it) when two ladies stopped me to ask where they could get something to eat (Success!). I was so excited to help them out I went a bit overboard. I gave them several different options to cater to what type of food they were interested in and what price range they were looking for. I gave them detailed directions to each restaurant, and even contemplated drawing them a map. I think my overzealousness may have given me away, however. They thanked me but as they walked away I think I heard them say, “He must not originally be from here.” Oh well, strike three!
13 hours ago
