Tourist?

This morning a man wearing a too tight red polo, tucked into his belted jeans started talking to me on the metro. He was talking loud, MUCH too loud for the metro. Everyone was looking at us. He was commenting on the rocky driving of our train driver and how it might be better if they change the name from DC Metro to DC Dominion (after I'm assuming King's Dominion amusement park) because then they could raise the prices of public transportation and people would pay it because it's a ride not just transportation. He laughed really loud. I politely smiled and nodded. Couldn't he see I was trying to read my book?

We stopped at the next stop and I moved to an open seat to make room for people boarding the train.

The man continued to chat it up with everyone. He commented on people squeezing into the train, wondering if they were all going to be able to get on. He commented on the people who couldn't get onto the train and had to wait on the platform. He commented on the weather, the day of the week, the amount of people etc. You name it, he probably commented on it. He was loud, and friendly, and just a little obnoxious.

When we got off the train I couldn't help wondering if he was a tourist or maybe just a little "not all there". (Bless his heart.) As he ran across Pennsylvania avenue and into the National Archives, I concluded he was a "not all there" and either really likes the archives or is an employee there.

Then I realized how rude my internal monologue was. Tourist or mentally handicapped? How did those become synonymous? Well, this morning they were.

So, I guess moral of the story is: Don't talk to strangers on the metro. Unless of course you are an actual tourist but then we can usually spot you a mile away anyway*, and will politely smile and nod.

*It's like there's a uniform. And the guy this morning was definitely rockin' the uniform. Though he must have left his fanny pack at home.