In less than two hours this morning, I woke up late, showered, brushed, and shaved, printed out train tickets, learned about the Columbus Day bus schedule for the Metro, explained it in Spanish to a random guy I sat next to on the subway, ran a little under a mile in dress clothes while wearing a backpack from the train to the Greyhound station, thinking the bus would be there when it really was waiting right where I had got off, tried (and failed) to communicate in sign language to a bus station attendant who had bit his tongue and was trying to give me directions, and ran back to the second floor of the train station, where my bus was waiting for me at 8:10, perfectly on schedule. Public transit here is great—it’s passengers that cause the trouble.
