I had a fantastic day off today, spending a majority of my time in the District, one of the few times in recent memory that I’ve not had any school or work obligations while there.

So of course I took advantage of decent weather to stroll down the mall and check out some museums after having lunch with a friend. It’s definitely much nicer getting around down there when it’s not 97 degrees, you’re not wearing business attire, and there aren’t 4000 kids in color-coordinated shirts shuffling around everywhere.

But there are still people on the Metro, and despite it being crowded in the early afternoon when I was leaving, those people are always good for entertainment.

Today’s subject: Helga. Or at least, that’s what I named her, since she kind of looked like a Helga.

Helga boarded the Orange Line train headed for Vienna with her husband, whom we’ll call Tim. Being a crowded train, there were not seats available to Helga and Tim, so they stood right in front of me in the center of the car.

Several stops later, a woman to my right gets off, freeing up a seat. Helga jumps on it like a Pilgrim on a turkey. Only one potential problem: she’s on the window side with another woman, Rosario, occupying the isle seat.

Stops go by. People get on and off our train. Rosario remains seated, and eventually dozes off to sleep. Her cell phone rings. She doesn’t move. Helga looks worried.

There are only a few more stops left before Helga will be getting off, albeit at the end of the line. Still, if Rosario doesn’t wake up, she’ll have to do something uncomfortable like say “excuse me,” or–GASP–perhaps even tap Rosario on the shoulder.

We arrive at Vienna, the last stop on the Orange Line. Customers, please exit this train, this train is out of service.

Rosario doesn’t budge. She’s zonked out. Helga looks really worried, like she may never get off this train. She looks to Tim for answers. Tim is in the aisle already, waiting only for Helga to get up so he can move on with his life. Helga looks like she’s on the brink of tears. Must she touch this woman?!

Tim whispers to her from seven feet away: “Say excuse me.” He whispers as if Rosario is going to stab him if she hears the instructions, or I’m going to think he’s weird if I hear.

Helga says “excuse me” in the quietest voice I’ve ever heard. It’s like a small child whose mother is forcing him to say thank you to a relative for a gift of socks. They only do it because that’s what they’re supposed to do in the situation, there’s no feeling there and they’re really hoping someone else’s actions will bail them out.

Rosario still doesn’t move. We’ve been stopped for 15 seconds. Helga looks as if someone is burning down her house right in front of her, only they’re taking individual items from the house and slowly burning each one with a match just to torture her.

Tim becomes more assertive, saying louder this time that Helga should tap the woman on the shoulder. Helga gives the tap just as enthusiastically as the “excuse me.” Rosario doesn’t move.

Summoning the strength of a mother lifting a car off her child, Helga finally touches Rosario with enough force to wake her up. There is joy in Vienna, for mighty Helga can now finally get out.