The Metro.

The metro. Every metro is the same. A place of comfort and discomfort. Escalators. Elevators. Stairs, stairs, stairs. The metro is a rush with so many interruptions. Slow walkers. Spontaneous sprinters. Suitcases. Baby carriers. Too many things in my way. Fragrant flowers, buttery pastries, and stagnant urine.

The anthem of the metro: a musical score of small cups filled with change, intercoms, and the shrieking sounds of metal on metal.  There are too many people to the point where it's overwhelming. There are too little people to the point where it's lonely. 

Sleeping on the metro. Then a woman comes in and stands in front of you. She sings beautiful from a microphone clearly from the 90s. But we are all sleeping.

The occasional small child on the metro sitting on a chair but when the metro stops the child goes flying. They need seat belts on the metro. The metro is not made for small children.

It is a great place to people watch and observe mannerisms. So many personalities. 25% tolerable. 75% intolerable.

No one looks directly into your eyes on the metro. They usually stare at the ground, at the wall, at their shoes, at the random corner of a shopping bag, or they are sleeping and avoiding all eye contact. 

Note to self: don't smile at anyone on the metro they'll think you are crazy.

Oh Metro, 

Although you make me uncomfortable, you take me to comfortable destinations. Thank you metro.