Slug Tales
I very rarely, if ever, pass on a slug ride.
That’s not to say that it never happens, but the truth is that I’m not very picky when it comes to getting a ride. I may laugh about a driver’s strange behavior, or complain about a stuffy car, but at the end of the day, I’m happy just to get back and forth to work without any major issues.
The only time I will choose not to accept a ride is when the driver and I are headed to different locations. For instance, if I approach a vehicle and the driver says they’re going to Crystal City, I will generally pass and look for another driver who is headed to L’Enfant Plaza, or somewhere closer to my destination in Washington.
Some people will refuse rides from certain drivers after a bad experience, such as a driver who makes them feel unsafe, or even one who smokes. I know someone who stopped slugging altogether and formed her own carpool because she couldn’t stand riding with strangers who poured on the cologne or perfume – it made her nauseous!
While waiting to slug home one afternoon, I saw two gentlemen allow the people behind them in line to get into a car before them. I wondered why they hadn’t taken the ride until one of them joked, “I’m too big for that car!” They were both very tall, and apparently didn’t think that they could squeeze into the small coupe.
It reminded me of my own car, and one of the many reasons I am almost always a rider and not a driver in the slug line. When I do drive, I’m afraid my passengers will be uncomfortable in my small, two-door Honda.
Over the holidays, I drove in one day and parked at Pentagon City, where parking is a few dollars cheaper than it is in D.C. I decided to pick up slugs at the Pentagon, and ended up with two of the biggest, tallest men in the line sitting in the front and rear passenger seats. As the first one climbed into the backseat, I apologized profusely, acknowledging the lack of space. Both passengers said they’d be fine, but I still felt badly for them, and tried to make the rest of the ride as smooth as possible.
Other drivers don’t seem as concerned with their passengers’ comfort, or sometimes, even their safety. I’ve ridden with many drivers who treat the commute like a race, speeding and weaving in and out of traffic. There’s a lady I’ve ridden with to the Pentagon a few times – she’s as nice as can be, very friendly – but she drives like a maniac! When I rode with her earlier this week, we made it from the Horner Road Commuter Lot in Woodbridge to the Pentagon in about 15 minutes. She said that she was running late that morning, but the other passenger had ridden with her before as well, and we laughed that she always drives that fast.
I’m always much more careful when I drive with other people in my car; I want them to feel as safe and secure as possible. At the same time, I’ve never had the guts to speak up to a driver who isn’t driving carefully, like the hybrid driver I rode with recently. Even though that ride in particular made me nervous, if I encountered that driver in the slug line again, I’m not sure that I would pass on the ride. When the line is long and moving slowly, I’m just happy to get into a car no matter what!
That said, there have definitely been times where I’ve been relieved not to have to get into certain cars, too. One morning when I used to slug from the Tackett’s Mill Commuter Lot in Lake Ridge, I rode with a lady whose car smelled overwhelmingly like a wet dog – you know the smell. It was awful, and I couldn’t wait to get out. When I saw her car pull up to the slug line that evening, I cringed. I couldn’t handle that again! But luckily, there were two people ahead of me in line, and I was able to take the next car. Whew!
When it comes down to it, slugs and drivers both have the choice to decline a ride or a passenger, it’s just not something I do very often. However, I’ve learned after years of slugging to never say never. Each day and each ride bring different circumstances, and if I ever felt unsafe (or sick!) from a ride, I’d probably have to just wait for the next one.
