And then a hero comes along!

Picture the scene: on the Orange line of the Metro after the Independence Day celebrations down on the Mall. (Way too much capitalization in that last sentence, hmmph.) I get onto the Metro car with Tiffany, or rather, we pack ourselves in, because people are stuffed into the subway as tightly as...(insert witty simile here). Anyway, we soon discovered that it was a major ordeal for people to actually get out of the Metro car when the train stopped at their destination, due to the crowds and the line of people surging to get into the Metro car BEFORE GIVING ANYONE A CHANCE TO GET OUT. Additionally, whoever was trying to get off the train at any given time also was in a race to get out before the no-bullshit train operator shut the doors much faster than necessary. So we are on the Orange line, and the train pulls into the Rosslyn station, where we were slated to get off. As I meekly try to smile and "excuse me" off the train, the conductor/operator/whatever lady informs us over the loudspeaker that we "all need to move faster, because I'm going to be shutting the doors in a few seconds," which everyone in our Metro car responded to with an emphatic "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!", a cry which, despite the volume and spirited participation, probably went unheard by the conductor. I'm still calm at this point, because I figure we can just get off at the next stop and take the train back in the other direction. The people behind me were not as relaxed, and even now I'm not sure if I actually ran off or was propelled off...either way, after popping out of the car I turn to see Tiffany squeezing her way out, only to find the doors sliding toward her! So I lunged forward, grabbed her by both arms, and in a display of sheer determination rarely put forth by my 5'7 120 lb frame, whisked her away from the jaws of the closing doors! (Relatively unimportant detail: the doors opened again before closing all the way, and then opened again three more times. Stop doting on this and keep reading of my feats.) After fighting our way through crowds and dormant escalators, we reached street level and celebrated our narrow escape by waiting for a Rosslyn-Georgetown shuttle that never came, presumably because the promised schedule of a shuttle every 10 minutes is, in the words of Adam, "lies, all lies."
In short, a day of parades, endless walking, great fireworks, and countless beatings from Wael ended with my Herculanean rescue of Tiffany from public transportation, which was celebrated over slices of toast smothered in cream cheese and jam at Adam's house. Land of the free indeed.