the new convoluted way to get to work
This morning I was in a RAGE thanks to my trip to work. There are an abundance of retards that ride the skytrain. I'm not talking the 'politically incorrect' sense of the word or a reference to mentally handicap. No no. I have armloads more respect for handicapped, the developmentally challenged, even the odd mentally ill methhead than I do for my fellow sktrain passengers. I'm just talking textbook, archetypal dumbasses. And who knows, maybe they feel the same way about me. Fine. We're even then.
Here's the scenario....
I left home early this morning to get to work early for a meeting and to return Garden State (which i luuuuuuuurv, see separate blog dedicated to the lovely, cute, serenly witty Zach Braff). I caught my usual #9 Broadway to Commercial, zipped over to Applause Video, returned the DVD and hiked up the escalator to the platform. It's about 8:20 by this time. The trains are rolling in, as usual the people getting on crowd the doors so that the sardines inside can't get off. Commuters will form a semi-circle blocking those trying to walk out of the sky train, just so that they can push by once the poor people are done streaming out. The process probably takes twice as long as it should. Dumbasses. But wait, the people waiting for the sky train aren't the only ones who have no comon sense whatsoever.
When you look inside the train and see that there are only 1 or 2 people in the aisles, standing between the seats holding onto the overhead, handles, you have to ask Why? I could say because Canadians are shy about their personal space but then to disprove that theory I just have to look at each doorway to the skytrain to see about 20 people crowded around the entrance. Squished. Like smoked oysters, actually come to think of it that's what the skytrain smells like. Oh, and here's the kicker. There's usually Transit workers standing around picking their nose, talking on their cell phones or drinking coffee. No one tries to teach these dolts how to ride the bloody train properly.
So I waited for 3 trains and then decided to take an Eastbound train to the next stop in the opposity direction to my destination. Essentially I doubled back on my journey downtown, and travelled an additional, oh, 13 blocks out of my way to the Nanaimo stop. When I arrived there were a lot of people and I very nearly threw myself down on my knees and threw a tantrum. But, when I got to the other side of the platform one of the blue-uniformed Tranist workers had a radio-transmitter to his mouth. And for the love of god he was barking out orders.
"Stand back the next train is coming. Don't worry folks there are another 3 trains after this one, back to back. Please clear the walkway for people getting off the skytrain."
I felt like kissing him. Seriously. He was a like an angel from public transit heaven. People obeyed. It was fantastic. The trains were just as full as when they arrive at Commercial and Broadway but the process was just orderly enough to avoid the fucking horrible jostle of Commerical and Broadway. BUT! I had to battle the masses swarming around the entrance like flies to those zapper lights. When I got into the train I noticed enough space for about 4 medium-sized folks (I consider myself a large) between the single rows of seats. I said, 'Excuse me I'm just going to squeeze past you into that 10 feet of free space there." I managed to stomp on two small people on the way.
My whole life I've been conscious of my size. I'm tall, big boned and depending on the season, I have a rotund ass. I swear to you though, I can compact into a small space, comfortably, respectably when needed. But the two munchkins (who were grown up, I don't tend to trapple kids) were taking the space of two of me with their briefcases and postioning of their little bodies. Why? Maybe it's some napoleanic defiance mechanism thing. Like, "I maybe small but I can take up just as much space on the sky train as the size 42 suit over there."
After a couple of firm, "Ahem, excuse mes" pointed down at the minis I managed to claim my space. There was air, there was room for a couple more people. My largish purse was held tight to my bod to allow for others to pass. Not rocket science not even polite, just common sense. Move into the not full spaces to make room for more folks in the full spaces.
* * * * * *
To balance out all that Ranty bad energy, I've got some good news....In the spirit of "I'll have my cake and eat it too" I've managed to scrounge enough cash despite my travels south for a beater. Right now its a draw between a Subaru wagon, a Volvo Sedan or a Volkswagen Fox all circa mid-1980s. Votes?
New York/Atlantic City was FABOO. Americans know how to ride the subway. In no way whatsoever would I trade my citizenship, but man I would import some sassy Brooklyn girls and guys up here to give lessons on how to board a train in rush hour. I've started a little fiction piece based on one of my adventures at the Herald Square Station with Christopher Janney's public art/sound installation "Reach". I may let it out of wraps one day, right now its pretty lame.
posted by Miranda @ Thursday, March 23, 2006
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