Look at that:
The escalator actually made a very fast "OM NOM NOM" sound as it chewed it. And then it stopped. Then I had to tug at my shoe for what seemed like hours as slightly perturbed yuppies angrily pushed past me, remarking to each other "I've never seen that before! The escalator just stopped!"
I pointed it out to the Metro mechanic guy -- kinda "came clean" as it were -- and he asked if I wanted to file a claim.
I don't, and I didn't. The city of DC has better things to pay for than my Converse. I'm just glad my shoes (which are coming on nine months old now) got to do some damage to the world before they died. I'm glad something so rubbery and canvas can have such a brutal effect on one's upward momentum on a trip home.
And people say Converse are an evil corporation! Look at all the social unrest I'm causing with mine! You just need to think outside the box, pilgrims.
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