First, I noticed him because he poked me in the face with his jumbo-sized magazine. You know the ones. They look like a regular magazine except they are glossier and about 50% wider for no apparent reason. I thought to myself "what a jerk. I bet he's reading GQ or some other idiotic man-mag." I get a peek at the cover and, even worse, it's Details. I know that you're thinking “nothing could be a stupider magazine than GQ.” Well, you're wrong.
With my initial suspicions about this guy confirmed, I decided to check him out. Not in a gay way. So I see that he's wearing a nice crisp white shirt with no tie. He probably took his tie off before getting on the train so he could look "laid back." Actually, I do the same thing, so I can't fault him for that. The problems started below the waist. He was wearing:
Talk about a major fashion faux pas. Black and brown? Duuuuude. Plus, pleats? Don't they tell you not to wear pleated pants in Details? I guess not. But the piece de resistance of the whole outfit was his footwear. I don't even have a comment about those.
So, with every bad stereotype of late 20-something Washington white guy rolled up in one package, I just looked at him and wanted to punch him the throat. But I didn't. Then the train got to Cleveland Park. I got off and headed up the escalators.
As I exited the station, I thought about that guy and how he was really just another person trying to make his way in the world. I decided that I hoped he was at least a better Christian than I am. That he was more charitable than I am.
Because then he would've turned his other cheek and I could've punched him again.