Day Two

Morning: I got to the commuter lot at about 10 'til 7 a.m. this morning. There was a nice black woman already there waiting in line for a car to come pick her — us — up. She was wearing black slacks and a black sweater with gold embellishments on its shoulders. She had on black-rimmed, rectangular framed glasses and her hair was pulled back in a tight bun. As I approached, I double checked with her that this was the line for the Pentagon. She said yes and I admitted this was my second time slugging, so I wanted to make sure I was doing everything right. She laughed and said, "No worries. We've all been there, done that."
A silver Volvo was our ride to the Pentagon. It was disgustingly clean with a light leather interior. The driver was white and very well groomed. He had silvery hair that was either wet or gelled ... or both. He was wearing a white, long-sleeved collared shirt which was textured, not smooth like most shirts are. He had on a pinstripe suit, though the jacket was on a hanger behind his seat. A brown raincoat and a sandy brown leather bag were thrown onto the backseat next to me. There was a shelf of sorts behind the headrests of the backseat with picture frames on it, but they were face-down. Privacy, maybe? Not sure.
Someone in the car smelled nice ... or maybe it was the car itself. It was one of those scents that would work on a man or a woman ... or a car ...
The radio was tuned to WTOP, which is a news/traffic/weather station. This is the second time a car has been tuned to that station.
We got stuck in traffic, though traffic on Interstate 95 was backed up even further than the HOV lane. Again, for you global warmers, saw five hybrids in a row when I started paying attention. I ended up falling asleep while we were sitting in traffic and woke up, luckily, right as we were pulling off the highway.
He dropped us off at the drop point. We thanked him and, as I was throwing my bag over my shoulder, the woman said "Oh, Lord ... another day, another dollar." I said "Amen, sister" in reply and immediately felt like an idiot. She laughed nonetheless and it was off to the Metro for me.
Evening: I made it to the Pentagon somewhat early this evening, so I had to wait a while in line for a car to finally come around to pick me up. There were a few men in line before me, and a woman about my age in line after. A Ford truck and black Scion took the men before me. I was picked up by an older model green Volkswagen sedan — must have been early '90s, it was nice and boxy ... and manual. 50 Cent's "Disco Inferno" was blaring as I got in.
The backseat was packed with random stuff. There was a fleece jacket, umbrella (which isn't so random since it has been raining the past few days), magazines, CD cases and a laptop case on the floor behind the driver's seat. There was a black and white leopard print pillow on the center console — appears to be a fad to have pillows there.
The driver and the girl in the passenger seat seemed to know each other as he was laughing with her when I got into the car. They were dressed differently, though. The driver was black and young, wearing blue pants and a blue t-shirt with a darker blue ballcap. He had a beautiful smile and contagious laugh. He was nice and obviously liked talking as opposed to the awkward silence that some sluggers would rather prefer.
The woman was a petite brunette no older than 25 years old. She was wearing a black and white pinstripe suit. I got a look at her face when she turned around to talk to me — Her hair had red chunks in it, like she grabbed parts and stuck them in dye.
The driver offered me a Mentos, which I politely refused ... my stomach wasn't happy with me after having drinking coffee and eating a spicy soup for lunch. He asked if I wanted to listen to country music and then started laughing ... I think there was a joke I missed somewhere in those few seconds. I also declined saying I listened to too much of it over the summer. He laughed again and started joking with the girl in the passenger seat again.
We talked for the rest of our ride, our conversation revolving around cars and the whole idea of slugging. They asked if I was a regular slug and I told them today was only my second day doing so. Turns out they didn't really know each other in the sense that they were friends or worked together. Instead, she was a regular slug once and ended up with him one afternoon. They started talking about cars — a topic about which they were both passionate — then compared schedules and found out they go to work and return home at about the same times. They decided to ride together from then on and just pick up a third so they could use the HOV lane. Apparently, a lot of people do that ...

I've posted links relevant to slugging here on my blog in case anyone should want to read up on it. Wikipedia.org has a site describing slugging and the other sites are made specifically for D.C. sluggers. Have a look if you're interested!