Photo by Construced SpaceWelcome back to Overheard in D.C., DCist’s weekly column of funny, strange, and poignant things that our readers and staff overhear and send in. We’ve been doing it since 2006, so check out the archives here.
Despite single-tracking, unexplained delays, train crowding, and ever-increasing fares, Metro has one redeeming quality: train operators can say whatever they want.
Overheard of the Week
On the Red Line during morning rush hour, October 7th:
The train is sputtering and won’t start at the Rhode Island Avenue station.
Train operator: “Ah, she’s like a ’79 Cadillac. You love her, but sometimes it takes a second to get her going.”
After the train finally moves: “Oh man, heh heh heh. Y’all were scared as I don’t know. Anyway, next stop NoMa. This the Red Line, baby!”
Heading down into NoMa: “Now watch and see how fast I get this thing going down the hill. And oh yeah: Go Nationals.”
After the jump, dumb people, Columbia Heights, and tourists.
As always, Real, Original Overheard in D.C. relies on you to submit the good stuff to our special Overheard in D.C. email address. Make sure to tell us who, where, and in what context, too.
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Sometimes it’s best not to talk
At National Airport a few weeks ago:
A drunk 20-something woman boarding a flight at DCA is walking behind an African American male, who is dressed in baggy clothes and dark sunglasses.
Woman: “You look like you are a rapp-ist. Are you a rapp-ist or something?”
Guy takes seat with head bowed down and woman sits next to him.
Woman: “Oh my gosh. I mean rap artist. Sorry, I get nervous when I fly.”
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Tough life
On the Georgetown University shuttle to Dupont:
Two male college students are talking about the “awesome” new iPhone 6:
Student: “Yeah, at first I thought about all the money. [Long pause.] But then I didn’t.”
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We may be better off if this were true
8:30 a.m. on a weekday, near the U.S. Capitol and Supreme Court:
Two little girl tourists are with an adult.
Adult: “Look, there’s the Supreme Court over there. We should do that first on our way.”
Girl #1: “Is that really the Supreme Court?”
Girl #2: “Like, Nacho Supreme?!”
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Columbia Heights Problems
Target in Columbia Heights, Saturday afternoon:
An early 30s couple is shopping for groceries.
Woman: “Of course there’s no more olive oil. We’ll need some. Because someone at the party poured it all into the leftover grape seed oil. You know … as one does.”
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Seriously
In front of the White House:
Thirty-something guy to his friends: “You see that red building? That’s the Secret Service. I submitted an application there, but those motherfuckers do background checks! Put me through hell, then didn’t want me ’cause of those assaults on my record. Then I hear they let some guy get over the fence and all the way into the White House! Maybe they coulda’ used some guys like me!”
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Listen up, company
Friday night in the line at Spider Kelly’s in Clarendon:
Two inebriated bros in their twenties are talking.
Bro #1: “Yo, Uber is way better than Lyft.”
Bro #2: That’s because Lyft needs to change their slogan to ‘Bro, do you even Lyft?'”
Bro #1: “I’m emailing their marketing team right now.”
Bro #2: “I’d use Lyft so hard if that was their slogan.”
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Columbia Heights Problems, Volume 2
At a bar in Columbia Heights, 9 p.m. on Saturday:
Twenty-something woman to her friends: “All I wanted to do when I got back here was SoulCycle and brunch.”
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Right
On the elevator down from the top floor of the Giant parking lot in Columbia Heights:
A woman gets on the elevator with her bike and is joined by a middle-aged man in a suit.
Man: “Wow! How on earth did you get that bike all the way up here? Did you ride it up the ramp?”
Woman with bike: “No, I, uh, took it up on the elevator.”
Man: “Oh, that’s what I meant.”
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Fun D.C. bar games!
Walking past the outdoor area of Pearl Dive on 14th Street on Monday night:
Guy 1 to Guy 2: “Kosovo, Liberia, Syria. Bomb, TDY or PCS?” [Temporary duty, permanent change of station.]
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A sentiment shared by many
Outside a fairly large office building near Franklin Park just after lunch:
Group of four professionals in suits probably in their late early 30s, two men, two women.
One man says the group, completely unprovoked: “I don’t like horror movies because I don’t like to poop my pants.”
No one breaks their pace/looks taken aback.
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