Open Letter

Dear DC,

If one more lobbyist-type pushes past me to get on their train at Metro Center not during rush hour, before I have had my breakfast, I will hunt down and devour him or her. On the Metro, natch. No eating in stations be damned.

I resent the self-important assholes who assume that because I am not dressed in appropraite business attire my life is not worth preserving. That it is ok to jab me with briefcases or totebags containing dress shoes so they can make it on the train quickly enough to colonize an entire seat. Having the whole seat makes it that much easier to contemplate life as a soulless jerk who would kill puppies with cancer to get a photo with Hillary Clinton to put on the desk ("Oh, yeah, Hil's great. I had a chat with her just..."). Lookit, you're probably a mid-level blister plauging the buttock of democratic bureaucracy. I am, admittedly, an unemployed student (not even an intern, horrors!) but I have feelings that say being hit in the gut before noon with a bag and without an apology isn't that cool. Ya ain't that important.

Some cities are rude. But DC is the only place I can think of where having a Brooks Brothers suit or an Ann Taylor dress is enough to make you a higher being excused from having even basic manners.

Love,
Julia