My father was adamant from the start that I learn to ride the Metro. He rode public transport at an early age in Chicago, and despite my mother's protests, he took me on the Metro and told me how it worked, and that was that. I might have rode the metro only a few dozen times as a kid, which increased dramatically as a teen, especially when I had a job in DC one summer.
I didn't ride the rail very much when I was little, mostly due to the costs, and when I did, it was always to some museum, Georgetown, or a movie theater. Sometimes the zoo. My dad also took me to the museums and the zoo from time to time due to my mother's intent to get us to like one another. I liked this in part because I didn't like being alone, but my dad and I never spoke much, so the company was tense at best.
Because I have rode it so long and never got to drive a car, the Metro became part of my personal history, and thus, is tied pretty close to my childhood. Thus, even to this day, some stations hold a special value to me and I have my own names for them.
Because I was little and the names of the stations made no sense, I made up my own names for them. My Orange Line rides became: "Balls by the Ton," "Virginia Ham," "Clarinet," "Boat House," "Fuzzy Lint," "Faggot North," "Froggy Bottom," and "McFurry Square." I never did have names for Metro center, Federal Triangle, or the Smithsonian, because those names made sense. When I lived in Mt. Vernon, my Yellow Line rides became, "Baby Buntington," "Wise Guy Avenue," "Thing Street," "Haddock Toad," "National Hairport," "Pistol Pretty," "Octagon Pretty," "Octagon," and finally "Elephant Plaza." I still think of most of the stations that way.
But according to this clever dude, I get now on at "A Ragamuffin Vixen," transfer at "Retro Cement," and then go to work at "Vern Rig Lisps." Hee.