Dear Orange Line -
I have something to tell you. I think it's only fair I tell you now. I'm leaving you, Orange Line.
We've had our good times and our bad. Remember all of those drunken rides home from Dupont Circle at 2am? Yeah, neither do I. Orange line, you helped me grapple with my issue of personal space. Being pressed up against strangers at 8 am before I've had coffee, well, it's taught me patience (and the importance of breath mints).
But what about those times I was forced to walk home from work, Orange Line? Are you trying to tell me I need to lose a few pounds? Just tell me to my face, Orange Line. Don't hide behind your "train malfunction" and "sick person" delays. Remember that time someone farted in a crowded train car while we were trapped between Rosslyn and Foggy Bottom? While I can't blame you for the flatulence, it was because of you that we were unable to escape the stench for nearly 5 minutes. I'm pretty sure one woman passed out, Orange Line.
I have tried to leave you many times before, spending an increasing amount of time with Custis Trail and Bicycle. But you knew that inclement weather and late work nights would force me back into your open doors. I know you are jealous of Bicycle, but that is no reason to ban him during rush hour while you callously allow strollers and tourists to block the doors.
But I'm serious this time. Your fare increases, crowded trains, lack of air conditioning and the resulting body odor; I'm done with them, Orange Line.
It's not me, it's you.
I hope we can still be friends,
Rudi
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