While riding Metro’s Orange Line train on the Tuesday after Labor Day, during the morning rush, a guy gets on the train at the Minnesota Avenue Station towards downtown D.C.
He walks up behind an older woman and takes her phone right out of her hand. The lady jumps up and says, “hey, give me back my phone!”
“Excuse me, somebody,” the lady said, “this guy right here just took my cell phone. Can somebody help me or call the police?”
It happened so fast that it caught everyone off guard, including myself. The lady was screaming and yelling for someone to help, but the guy was so big and intimidating. What really made it so bad was that when the train got to Stadium Armory station, and the doors opened, the guy didn’t even get off.
He was still holding the lady’s phone in his hand. What nerve!
Finally, a guy sitting in front of me said, “hey buddy, could you please just give the lady back her phone?”
I’m thinking to myself, there has to be at least thirty men on this train and I know all of us could take him. But no one took the chance, including me.
Next stop was Potomac Avenue Station, and he still didn’t get off — and was still holding the lady’s phone. I knew then, this guy is looking for trouble.
So the other guy said, “what if I give you twenty bucks? Would you give back the phone?”
Then another guy said, “I have fifteen” and I said, “I have ten.”
That was forty-five dollars. The guy took the money, threw the phone on the floor and got off at the Capitol South stop. What a relief.
The lady got her phone back, but I was more upset with myself. I know I could have done more to help than to just give ten dollars. It could have just as easily happened to me during the early morning rush hour.
Nobody wanted to get involved, including me. In times of need, we should be ready to help each other. I know I will.
And here’s a message to the guy who caused all that trouble: maybe you can do crime and get paid today — but tomorrow you’ll be behind bars in the worst way.
