Home

Metro Customer Service - Beyond Terrible

Today, I saw something gut-wrenchingly terrible on Metro.

Occasionally I see a blind man in my Metro station when I head home from work. We take the same train, and it always strikes me how difficult something as simple as riding the Metro must be for him. This usually causes me to reflect on how I’m really a sad sack for completely taking my sight for granted. I try to help people like him out when I can. I ask them which train they’re waiting for since they can’t see the sign, and I tell them how long they have to wait, and how many trains will pass before their train comes. I’m no saint for doing this, but I consider it the decent thing to do for someone who could use the help.

Today, I stood reflecting on a long week working and sparring with Vukovich about the Streetsblog picture in my free time. The train pulled up, and I got on immersed in my own thoughts. The doors closed, and as I looked around for the first time, I saw him, standing outside the train. He had just realized that he missed it, not because he was late, but because as he stood on the platform, he didn’t realize in time that this was the train he needed. He was trying to get on board, but he wasn’t near the door, which was already closed anyway. He was tapping his cane against the middle of the train car. He was too late.

Apparently he had been standing behind me on the platform, and I hadn’t noticed him before. I guess no one thought to ask him which train he was waiting for and alert him, or help him in any way. Instead, about fifteen lazy pigs stood there on the platform watching as he futilely tapped his cane against the side of a train that pulled away and left him behind.

I couldn’t help but feel a little sick to my stomach, like I should have noticed him and done something to help him out, and in truth I should have. We all should. We should all try to be aware of those around us who could use a hand and do the basic, compassionate human thing to assist them.

This wasn’t some angry vagrant asking for an undeserved handout and sticking his self-entitled hand in my face expecting some change. I’m talking about someone who can’t help himself. As a society, we all have a responsibility to be good stewards of these people.

We hear a lot of talk about morality in our culture, and what does it say about our society if we water board prisoners at Guantanamo? But what the hell does it mean when fifteen people have so little compassion for anyone that they can’t take five seconds to ask a blind man which train he’s waiting for and help him find the door? I’ve got news for you, if this society is headed straight down the road to hell, it isn’t happening in some interrogation room in Cuba, it’s happening on the subway platform right next to you.

You could always play the “why me” card. To be honest, I don’t really have a good response for you, and I use that card myself all the time. I can’t articulate a good reason why you should be compelled to do anything, and I don’t think that it’s wise for society to force you – that won’t make a better society, it will make an obedient society. The problem with that is that you start down a slippery slope that can go lots of dark places. Our founders realized that, and as a consequence, a rugged, stubborn individualism has always been an integral part of the American identity. Legally, I think you’re perfectly within your rights not to aid someone in need, but morally I think there is something warped inside you if you cannot feel charitable to the truly deserving among us.

I accept that I will never change the individual citizen, but I think the thing that sickened me the most about this incident was that there is someone who is not only morally bound, but duty bound to be this man’s steward. Today that person failed completely in that charge – he’s the train operator.

The Metro train operator is supposed to clearly announce over the intercom what train is arriving at what station – for precisely this purpose, to alert visually impaired people. They’re also supposed to stick their head out of the train before pulling out of the station and check the platform. They’re supposed to look to make sure everyone is clear of the train, the doors have closed properly, and they haven’t left anyone behind – baby carriage on platform with mother on the train, blind person who can’t see the door, etc…

Today, none of those things happened, and as a result, I lost a bit of faith in my fellow man. I also lost any lingering doubt I had that Metro is a completely broken organization when it comes to customer service.

What if that was your brother left standing on that platform, confused, helpless and humiliated? What if he was your friend, or your father?

Metro is awful. I feel so down about this that I can’t even find it in myself to crack wise about it. There’s no funny spin to put on this story. That train can’t roll backward and pick him up and make things right.

That man probably got on the next train. He probably got where he was ultimately headed; he just got there fifteen minutes later. But imagine what he must feel inside knowing that on a platform, full of evening commuters, he was all alone, and no one cared enough to extend him a courtesy that literally would require less effort than you will use to pick up the remote control tonight and continue to rot your brain.

Shame on everyone on that platform – myself included. Shame on the train operator, and shame on Metro for yet again showing loud and clear what priority they give to their customers, especially those most in need of Metro’s services.