Ah, transit. How we hate ye. But since we all have places to go and since cars are bad for the environment and our wallets, AND since they haven’t yet invented those pods to zip you around places individually, (An actual conversation- “How would they know where to go?” “Oh, they’d have certain paths.” “What if you ran into someone else in your individual vehicle?” “You could link up and follow other pods.” “…Like a train?”), we must take public transit.
Some gems this week: how about the guy who got on the train and searched for his seat about a second and a half too long for the guy behind him? When the first guy sat down the other guy sat directly across from him, huffing and sighing loudly at the nerve of the former. When his ire didn’t appropriately register he proceeded to lean forward and glare at the man. Blocking the aisle. Huffing and sighing. Making people huff and sigh in his direction. (It’s a vicious cycle, folks. Do the words ‘let it begin with me’ mean anything?) I had to exit at Sedgewick- they may still be there, blocking the aisle.
Also worthy of a flick in the head; the guy wearing the messenger bag that (presumably) had his CTA touch pass in a side pocket. Instead of turning the bag to hit the sensor (or even removing it from the bag!) he attempted to back into the turnstile and wiggle his butt in the general area of the sensor. When nothing happened (except for a bit of a line that had formed) he went on to rub his back and bottom on the sensor, much like a bear scratching himself on a tree. When you’ve reached the point where your Easy Pass is not easy and is, in fact, making you into a reviled human being, maybe it’s time to take the pass from your bag, from your wallet, and from that plastic case you keep it in. At least during rush hour. Or, if you must persevere in the name of ease, please inform us of your poorly magnetized pass so we don’t wonder about the skin rash you must be fighting.
And to the man who was tailgating my bike yesterday morning- if you find that you’re driving down public alleys for longer than five blocks at a time, perhaps you’d care to try the convenience of the 35mph Addison Street? Clearly you are not taking a shortcut to the Brown Line. For you are in a car.
I’m sure I’m no transit prize either (“Why is this girl staring at me while I’m giving this man the evil eye?” “Why won’t this girl on the old green bike go faster in this ridiculously wide alley?”) but at least I try. I bring some much needed levity to the situation. Not at the time, of course, but later- when all the involved parties have forgotten the incident and I wrack my brain for funny things that have happened in my day.
You are welcome.
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