Yelling at idiots

Sometimes I just have to put rude people in their place.

Last night on my way home on the red line, the train was packed and I was standing, holding onto one of the infested poles to steady myself. At JFK a woman squoze on next to me and proceeded to place her hand on the pole about 5 inches above mine, and letting her full plastic grocery bag that was dangling from her wrist knock my hand completely off the pole. I looked at her and said, "why thank you, am I still in your way?" No response from her. I grabbed onto the pole above her and dangled my bag in her face. She didn't seem to mind.

Seven minutes later we got to the N. Quincy station and as the doors closed and we departed the station, the small filthy man who had been sitting in front of me stood up and I think said, "excuse me". I replied with, "can't you wait until the train stops? there's nowhere to move." He didn't even look at or acknowledge me and likely didnt speak English anyway, so he just stood there with his filthy self right in my face. I should have just let loose and really yelled at him since it appeared he had no idea what I was saying anyway. I didn't budge an inch for him. 2 minutes later we arrive at Wollaston and boy is he anxious to make sure he gets off the train. Naturally, in a huff, I whip my bag into him and block him as I very slowly made my way off the train.

Don't mess with me, people.

I need a shower

I wanted to get to work early today but the MBTA Red Line had other plans for me.

On a good day it takes me about 40 minutes door-to-door to get to my office. Today it took 75 minutes due to signal/switch problems up at Charles MGH.

Of course this happens on a day when I don't have my phone charged so I couldn't listen to music to drown out the incessant commentary and complaints about the situation, or take pictures of the sweaty back that kept rubbing against me or the armpit (heavily doused with cologne, thank goodness) that was in my face.

Pictures can't capture the warm breath of the tall man standing next to me, huffing and puffing and mumbling about the situation, but I will not forget the sensation and inclination to vomit that I felt each time he breathed on my face. I had nowhere to turn, no protection, so I lifted my Metro to my face and held it against my forehead for a little while.

It would be so much better if, during these delays, the train would stop at each station quickly instead of "standing by" with the doors open so more and more rude jerks can squeeze on and rub their nasty skin, sweaty clothes and dirty bags all over me.

I wish my office had showers in the ladies room.

Keep the votes coming!

Please, please, please vote for "I Hate the Red Line" once everyday through September 9!

Just click here: http://boston.blogger.cbslocal.com/most-valuable-blogger/vote/misc/

Then scroll down to "I Hate the Red Line" and click on the vote button --no need to sign in so it just takes a few seconds!


THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU

I had to yell at 3 people this morning.

Beautiful morning, pleasant walk to the Wollaston T station... not so pleasant feeling when I get to the top of the stairs and see a mass of people waiting for an Alewife train.

The train arrives 4 minutes later and as I'm getting onto the train, I see that everyone is crowding the door per usual and I have to yell at someone for standing halfway through the standing area with enough room for 3 people to his left by the end of the car. He moves and there's room for more people to get on the train and I get an ok spot holding on to the rail by the door with a small person sitting in front of me. Unfortunately my left hand gets whipped repeatedly by a frizzy ponytail on a short woman in front of me so I say, "gross, watch your hair", readjust my positioning in the limited amount of space I have, and put my left hand down by my side. She doesn't understand English -- or she just likes disgusting people with her rat tail on purpose -- because she keeps doing it. I hold up my Metro basically wrapping it around her head. She doesn't seem to notice. What the hell.

We get to N. Quincy and 500 more people squeeze on. As mentioned, I have my left hand (which has already been assaulted by nasty hair) down by my side. Right away some dude squeezes himself onto the train next to me, bends down, SMEARING HIS GREASY WARM FACE ALONG THE ENTIRE LENGTH OF MY ARM AND HAND. I freak out, yell, "SICK!!!" and jerk my hand away, struggle to find my hand sanitizer because the train is so crowded and I can barely open my bag, and then I'm even more grossed out by the heavy breathing of an old man who has the worst diaper breath I've ever encountered.

I'm a finalist!! Thank you for your votes!!

Keep on voting!!

http://boston.blogger.cbslocal.com/most-valuable-blogger/vote/misc/

Things that bothered me on the T over the last 15 hours

1. Leg crossers. Talk about rude! Why do these leg-crossers who have a seat feel the need to cross their legs, thereby taking up even more space with their legs sticking out into the middle of the standing area? I've been noticing this a lot lately. Sometimes I'm even straddling people's gross feet because they refuse to just let their feet rest on the floor. And the taller the person it is, the more their legs jet out into the standing area. Frackin' rude!

2. Tampons on the tracks. I saw this scene this morning at Wollaston. Wow.

3. Cigar smoking. This happened outside Wollaston entrance while I'm waiting to cross the street. Talk about rude. Who gets off a train and desperately needs to immediately smoke a cigar? That shnizz stinks.

ROCK THE VOTE!

http://boston.cbslocal.com/most-valuable-blogger-voting/



http://boston.cbslocal.com/most-valuable-blogger-voting/