Welcome to My Nightmare

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I took the metro the other night.  DC is not the easiest city to navigate; if you’ve ever driven through, you know what I mean.  But the metro can be a pain too.  On certain occasions you’d swear everyone was on the way home from a seminar over at the Low IQ Society.    On
this particular night, two guys whom looked barely old enough to drink,
approached groups of women with lines they obviously heard on last
season’s “Mystery: The Pick Up Artist.” 

The 30-minute commute ended up feeling like an hour, but we finally reached our desination station:  Dupont Circle. 

 

One must use the escalator to reach street level.  No problemo.  And then…approaching the escalator….

 

 

HOLY…..SHIT…..

My childhood aversion to steep staircases came back like Jordan.  Infact, until now, I completely forgot about the whole stair phobia of  1st
grade, the black tar stuff my mother stuck on the bottom of my dress
shoes so I’d feel more slip-resistant, the look of annoyance on Sister
Bernadine’s face staring up from the first floor.

And now this thrill-ride of an escalator stood in between myself and micro-brew. 

 

Did I go up?

Yes.    Beer over fear. My concerned, albeit confused friend stood next to me while I grasped the hand rail with both hands.   Not only was the escalator the steepest I’ve seen, but also the longest. 


(YouTube Video of Dupont escalator)
Growing
up, we were all afraid of something. My sister’s fear was spiders. 
She’d think they were under her pillow in the middle of the night.  I
know; because she would pinch me to wake me up and look.  

She still hates spiders, but is no longer terrified of them.  

Which is usually how it goes, luckily… but ya remember everything so clearly once in a while.

So now I ask you, dear reader, ….what scared you?  

 

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