Have a Cigar

I've probably ridden the MBTA daily since 1997. Since then I have seen my fair share of noteworthy people and incidents; including, but not limited to:

• a shooting (at Fields Corner over some gold jewelry)
• toe nail clipping
• teeth flossing
• head-butting
• crazy ranting and raving
• self-pleasuring
• exposing oneself
• vomiting

Today though, I saw someone openly smoking a cigar on the Red Line. This guy was different than the kids I've seen sneaking cigarettes on the platform, as they always look like they'll pee their pants if they get caught. This guy was actually enjoying a lit cigar on his morning commute and looked so comfortable and sane, that I think he'd have been apologetic if someone pointed out to him that it was prohibited to smoke on the T.

The 12 Days of MBTA

On the 1st day of Christmas the MBTA gave to me, 1 grimey pole!
On the 2nd day of Christmas the MBTA gave to me, 2 frost bitten toes!
On the 3rd day of Christmas the MBTA gave to me, 3 busses too full to stop!
On the 4th day of Christmas the MBTA gave to me, 4 medical testing ads!
On the 5th day of Christmas the MBTA gave to me, 5 blasting iPods!
On the 6th day of Christmas the MBTA gave to me, 6 red lights!
On the 7th day of Christmas the MBTA gave to me, 7 seats occupied by shopping bags!
On the 8th day of Christmas the MBTA gave to me, 8 seconds to read my monthly pass!
On the 9th day of Christmas the MBTA gave to me, 9 bottles rolling around the floor!
On the 10th day of Christmas the MBTA gave to me, 10 discarded Metros!
On the 11th day of Christmas the MBTA gave to me, 11 coughing passengers!
On the 12th day of Christmas the MBTA gave to me, 12 minute stall between South Station & Downtown Crossing!

Humidity: Nature's Hair Mousse

Like the Grinch's heart, my hair grew 3 sizes today!

"Don't hate me because I'm beautiful; this is my hair when I wake up in the morning."

Like this look? Recreate it for cheap in 2 easy steps:

1. Style hair as normal, and walk 7 or so city blocks in the damp warm weather.

2. Sit for 10 minutes on a hot crowded bus.

Quaker Oats Instant Confusion

"Go humans go"

Is the Quaker Oats man an alien? Was he sent from some planet to encourage us from bus stops? I am thoroughly confused by these ads... Any thoughts?
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Passive Agressive Bus Driver

This morning I decided not to risk walking the quarter mile or so over sidewalks covered in blocks of ice to the corner of L and East Broadway to catch the 7, but just hopped the 9 which stops a block away on either side of our building. I was able to find a seat when I hopped on at H St; however, there was a boatload of people waiting to board at F St.

Some people stubbornly refuse to move towards the back of the bus when others are boarding. They press themselves against the seats and try to become as thin as possible in order to avoid moving back to the standing room section on the upper platform. As a result, there's usually a rider pig pile near the driver and people are in front of the yellow line. Some drivers just ignore the over-the-line-yellow line offenders, while others enforce the rule but shouting and shaming people into moving to the back to make room for the others.

This morning our driver was an Enforcer. After the last person had squeezed onto the bus, the standees practically had to inhale in order for the driver to close the front door.

Ding. Dong. Ding. I heard a series of tones overhead. "When boarding the bus, please make room for other passengers and stay behind the yellow line," a cheerful, yet stern automated female admonished. I hadn't heard that one before; a nice alternative to the male automated voice.

No one budged. Ding. Dong. Ding. We heard the same message again and still no one moved. Ding. Dong. Ding... The driver sounded the polite (and now incredibly annoying) message about 5 times before people finally got the hint and moved to the back of the bus. Give me a shouting angry bus driver any day; a loud threat "not to move this bus until you are behind the line!" is much more effective. There's no room for niceties on the bus.

The Holiday Spirit Touches Some, and Misses Others

I just hopped on the T at State (hey, it's raining) to go to the Macy's downtown. I wanted to take advantage of the sales to buy a bigger ticket item. Anyway, when I got off at Downtown Crossing, the street level exits were lined with pedestrians shielding themselves from the rain. Squeezing past a teenaged girl, my bag accidentally brushed against her shoulder. "Excuse me," I said and continued to walk by.
"Don't excuse me, you b*tch," she yelled. "F*ck you!" Her sentiments were punctuated with an equally eloquent gesture.
Tis the season!
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Less than 12 Hours Later, Change is Already Here

Lately I've been taking the 7 to work, unless the 9 pulls up to the bus stop just as I'm passing by. This morning, just as I stepped outside I saw the 9 stopped about a block away, and I decided to make a run for it. In this scenario, maybe 25% of the time the driver will pretend not to notice me running towards him and waving my hands like a maniac. Normally, the driver does wait, but will practically shut the door on me and pull away in the process. This usually means that I'm falling into the aisle and putting on a show for the other passengers.

Today, as I breathlessly boarded the bus, while fumbling for my pass, the driver smiled brightly and said, "Good morning!" Completely caught off guard by her greeting, I said, "uh, hell0..?"
"Thank you!" she said smiling again, when I pressed my card to the reader and found a seat. Last night, most of the nation collectively sighed in relief and is ready for change. Based on my experience this morning, people are happier already!

Speed 3- Runaway 7

I'm on the 7 going home, and our driver must have tickets to the Sox tonight, or something. She is speeding like crazy and then slams on the brakes* if she has to pick someone up. Everyone's heads are whipping forward when she finally decides to brake last minute. If there is a service slowdown going on, this chick is definitely boycotting it. Ugh, I need a barf bag.
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*someone pointed out to me that I had been using "break" instead of "brake." So this post has been edited to use the correct spelling.

The New Courtesy Counts Campaign Missed Some Key Points...

So, the MBTA has launched a new Courtesy Counts campaign. After 11 years spent riding the T and buses, I have some other complaints that, in my opinion, are worse than talking on a cell phone. Drawing on multiple personal experiences, here are the rider offenses that I would target:

Big Plans to Pee your Pants? Leave the train at your next chance!

Feel like a long, crazy diatribe? Save it for the next ride.

I know, your prices can't be beat, but sell your crap out on the street.

Gum disease is a shame, but please don't floss while on the train.

My Good Deed Won't Go Unnoticed, because I'll Make Sure to Point it Out to You

While on the train this morning, an older man with a cane and a foot cast entered our carriage at South Station. He didn't seem to be in much pain and quietly got himself situated by holding his cane in one hand and the overhead bar with the other. As soon as the train started to pull out of the station, the women sitting in front of where he was standing decided to take action.

She shattered the train's dead silence by announcing, "I'm getting off at the next stop!" Then she got up from her seat and valiantly gestured that the man should sit down. "You should sit here," she commanded.

"No thank you, I'm getting off at the next station too," he politely responded, although he was clearly not enjoying the attention as the rest of us were watching the scene unfold.

"You really should sit! I'll give you my seat!" And then the woman added (in case the man hadn't already realized), "Your foot is in a cast!" At this pronouncement, other passengers began shifting in their seat and craning their necks to catch a glimpse of the man's foot.

Mercifully, the trip to Downtown Crossing from South Station is quick. I would have forgiven the older man for whacking her with the cane on the way out; however, he left as quietly as he came, and the woman disappeared into the crowd; probably to find someone else in need to make herself feel better.

Summer's Still Here, "Weather" You Like it or Not

There's a day every year, usually in March, where the temperature briefly hits 70 degrees or so and people are led to believe that spring weather has arrived. Even if blocks of snow are frozen to the ground and Opening Day is still a week away, tags are ripped off new summer wardrobe items and pasty legs, arms and shoulders are put on display. My husband and his buddies claim to love this day, since tank tops and sundresses leave a lot less to the imagination than sweaters and corduroys. There's a corresponding day in the late summer too, say August 27th, when we begin lusting for football, foliage and fall clothing. These seasonal longings coupled with a touch of brisk morning air, have the same effects on people's common sense as does the 70 degree day in March. This morning, there was a woman at my bus stop wearing a black peacoat and a fuzzy pink scarf. I felt for her, as I've jumped the weather gun too, and watched as she sighed with relief as we boarded the air-conditioned bus.

Please Take Your Coffee Cups, Metros & Rubber Gloves When You Exit the Bus

In the morning, seats are hard to come by on the bus. When a seat is occupied by something other than a paying customer (newspaper, spilled coffee, blobs of unidentifiable funk), the seat is usually claimed anyway. On the crowded 7 bus this morning, 2 seats remained empty, as no one wanted anything to do with the box of rubber gloves and discarded t shirt that were on them.
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Smoke If You Got 'Em

"No smoking, please." I think I've heard the T's robotic voice utter this about three times a day for 10 years. Obviously smoking is not allowed on the trains or platforms, but I frequently see people lighting up in the morning while waiting for the train at Broadway. This morning there was a kid, couldn't have been more than 12 or 13, that decided to light up for a morning cig. He gave those watching him a long, cold stare as if daring us to say something. About 30 seconds later, a T worker started towards him and our tough young smoker dropped the attitude and the butt and took off scared to the other end of the station. The rest of us got a good laugh out of that, and I was still smiling about it when I got off the train at Downtown Crossing. As I was walking to my exit, a cockroach scuttled by feet, which sent me running to another set of stairs. Just when you're feeling all tough and smug, there's usually someone (or thing) to put you back in your place.

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Hot Summer Reading

The woman next to me on the 9 this evening was reading this book. With a title like that, I admired the woman's lack of self-consciousness. If it had been me reading the book, I think I would have treated it like my old high school text books by covering it with a paper bag and writing, "The Red Pony" across the front for good measure.

Circle Time, Miller Time & Nap Time

I saw a woman on my commute this morning wearing a backpack with the Bright Horizons logo. Nestled in the backpack's side mesh pouch were a pack of Marlboro's and a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels.

Having spent a summer teaching art & gym classes at Creative Movement & Arts Center, I certainly understand how she'd be feeling a bit crazed; however, hopefully she waits until after Ernie & Bert sing the "Put it Away" song to get her drink & smoke on.

Powdery Fresh

This is going to sound unbelievable, but I'm riding the 9 back home and the bus actually smells great. Normally it's fantastic if the bus doesn't smell like a hairy overweight man on a summer day. In this case, the bus smells like the inside of that store Lush. (A soap store on Newbury St). It seems like the public transportation gods are on my side tonight. Just not the wind and/or underwear gods.
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Bad Day to Dress Like a Librarian

When I walked out my door this morning, the sun immediately warmed my shoulders and legs. "Ah, another nice day," I thought as I strolled down Broadway. As soon as I had walked about a block to the bus stop, a bus arrived and I hopped on thinking what good luck I was having this morning. The bus wasn't overly crowded and we didn't get stuck at too many red lights. Having made it to Broadway in record time, the train pulled into the station just as I had stepped onto the platform. "Today's going to be a great day," I thought. The stars are perfectly aligned.

I got off at Downtown Crossing and was simultaneously fishing around in my bag for my Dunkin Donuts card while walking down Arch Street, when a gust of wind blew my skirt completely up over my head. Even more unfortunate than showing dozens of commuters my underwear, was the fact that I was wearing my librarian themed underwear that I received as a gag for my bachelorette party that has the following printed on the read end:


In the end, I have to say the public humiliation (and free public service announcement) was a small price to pay for a 10 minute morning commute. Today's outlook has been only been slightly downgraded from "great" to "good."

Fish or Cut Bait?!

Door to door, it's about a mile from our house on East Broadway to Broadway T station. Unless it's pouring rain or my bag is particularly heavy, I usually just walk to the T instead of waiting for the 9 bus. Since it's only about a 12 minute walk, it usually doesn't make sense time-wise to wait for the bus. Granted, riding the bus is quicker if I don't have to wait very long, but 80% of the time I end up getting to Broadway before a 9 passes me by. Normally I just continue down West Broadway and glance back down the street as I pass the bus stops to see if one's right behind me. More often than not, there's no bus in sight, and so I just keep plugging along to the T.
The past couple of days though, as the weather has been getting warmer and Spring-like, I've noticed how my side of the street is covered in shadows, while the opposite side is bright and sunny. This observation inevitably leads to the following internal debate:
"That side looks nice and sunny... maybe I'll cross to the sunny side of the street."
"Yeah, but if a bus comes by you'll miss it."
"One usually doesn't come anyway, and if it does, it's packed."
"You never know... And your legs are still a bit fatigued from last night's run."
And so, hope springs eternal and I stay in the cold shadows while clinging to a pathetic hope that an empty bus will appear. And, like a jilted lover, the bus continues to stand me up.
Tired of being disappointed, this morning I thought to myself, "I'm crossing to the sunny side of the street and not looking back." Enjoying the sun hit my back, I then watched not 1, but 2 buses pass me by.

A Woman is Like a Teabag...

While standing on the 9 Bus last night, a woman's bookmark caught my eye. The font and coloring made me think of Mary Engelbreit, and it read: A Woman is Like a Teabag, -and unfortunately, the woman's hand was covering the 2nd half of the seemingly ridiculous simile. The bus was crowded and I was desperate to see in what circumstance a woman could be compared to a teabag. It got to the point where I was practically resting my head on the lady's shoulder. In light of the "good touch/bad touch" awareness campaign the MBTA's got everyone all hyped up about, I decided to straighten up and think it through on my own. Nothing I could come up with sounded worthy of being printed on a bookmark or even made much sense.

A woman is like a teabag.... she's a flavorful pouch.
A woman is like a teabag.... dunk her water and she'll flavor it.
A woman is like a teabag.... don't throw her out after one use, she's usually good for at least 2.

It was finally my husband who had to suggest to me, the librarian, that it might be a famous quote, and that I should look it up online. Well, it took all of 1 Google search to reveal the entire quote, and the former First Lady who pronounced it.