There are three kinds of people exiting the Metro. Those that ride the escalators up and down, those that ride up and walk down, and those that walk both ways. I'm firmly in the second category, as it seems the most efficient use of both my time and energy.

But this morning I ran into an acquaintance who is, apparently, a walker. I was engrossed in trying to make appropriate small talk as we approached the escalators, and neglected stake out a spot on the right side (where people usually ride to the top). Before I knew what was happening he was three steps up on the left side, looking over his shoulder expectantly. I had two choices: (a) be lazy/rude and ride to the top alone or (b) drag my fat ass up a contraption that had been designed specifically to prevent such a spectacle.

God forbid I should be rude.

Spoiler alert - I survived. I reached the top, panting as if I'd run a mile and sweating profusely. My acquaintance looked at me askance, as he was not even breathing heavily. Smug, physically fit so-and-so. *shakes fit* Still it was an eye-opener. I need to work out ... just not on a Stairmaster.