I deserve SOMETHING for having to deal with the torture of riding the MBTA everyday: http://boston.cbslocal.com/most-valuable-blogger/
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Most valuable blog? I like it.
I deserve SOMETHING for having to deal with the torture of riding the MBTA everyday: http://boston.cbslocal.com/most-valuable-blogger/
It never ceases to amaze me how rude and gross people can be
It's always a bad sign when I walk up the stairs at Wollaston and see a mass of people waiting for a train. It's also a bad sign when the train appears and that mass of people gets on, uncomfortably squished, and the train doesn't move. It's also wicked rude and annoying when oblivious d-bags have their Metro opened as big as it can possibly be as they lean against and cover with their body a pole that 10 people need to grab onto, and then rub the edges and corners of the open newspaper against my arm, stomach and breasts. Newspaper assault!
When we finally arrived at North Quincy this morning, the conductor announced that the train would be express to South Station, and that anyone who planned to get off at the 3 stops between N. Quincy and South Station should get off the train. No one got off, as expected, but a bunch of people squeezed on. Naturally I get stuck in an awkward position with the newspaper assaulter now poking me even more in the front, a large man with a large backpack digging into my back, a B.O. stinkin' man with the hairiest arms I've ever seen to my left rubbing against my left arm, and a short woman pushing into me from the back-right, breathing heavily on and touching my right arm, and resting her arm on my right shoulder because she can't reach any higher and there's a suitcase and body blocking the rest of the pole. Oh, and there's a young woman sitting in front of me with her legs crossed (therefore taking up way too much room) huffing and puffing and complaining to anyone who will listen about the delays and how crowded the train is even though her body isn't being touched by ANYONE, and of course she eventually slams her high heel into the top of my foot as she un-crosses her legs. Does she apologize? No. She gives me a dirty look and sighs again, as if it's my fault for being in her way and I deserved the pain or something. So nice.
If my math is correct, I had a minimum of 4 people constantly touching me and pressing into me during my entire ride from Wollaston to S. Station with a couple foot stomps. I won't even attempt to count the number of other bodies with which my body came into unwanted contact at Downtown Crossing.
I HATE the red line.
When we finally arrived at North Quincy this morning, the conductor announced that the train would be express to South Station, and that anyone who planned to get off at the 3 stops between N. Quincy and South Station should get off the train. No one got off, as expected, but a bunch of people squeezed on. Naturally I get stuck in an awkward position with the newspaper assaulter now poking me even more in the front, a large man with a large backpack digging into my back, a B.O. stinkin' man with the hairiest arms I've ever seen to my left rubbing against my left arm, and a short woman pushing into me from the back-right, breathing heavily on and touching my right arm, and resting her arm on my right shoulder because she can't reach any higher and there's a suitcase and body blocking the rest of the pole. Oh, and there's a young woman sitting in front of me with her legs crossed (therefore taking up way too much room) huffing and puffing and complaining to anyone who will listen about the delays and how crowded the train is even though her body isn't being touched by ANYONE, and of course she eventually slams her high heel into the top of my foot as she un-crosses her legs. Does she apologize? No. She gives me a dirty look and sighs again, as if it's my fault for being in her way and I deserved the pain or something. So nice.
If my math is correct, I had a minimum of 4 people constantly touching me and pressing into me during my entire ride from Wollaston to S. Station with a couple foot stomps. I won't even attempt to count the number of other bodies with which my body came into unwanted contact at Downtown Crossing.
I HATE the red line.
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Now I have to worry about pink eye? Cripes.
I'm alreayd freaked out by the potential to catch MRSA on the train but hadn't considered pink eye. Sick.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Stopped again by police
I was stopped again by the police to search my bag at Wollaston this morning.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
My worst nightmare
It happened today but thank the lord I wasn't on that train. 447 people had to be evacuated from a disabled train on the Red Line outside Porter Station in Cambridge. And I heard that it was TWO trains that got stuck? What the hell, red line!?!?!?! This happened close to 10am, and I just cannot fathom this happening to me during early morning rush hour on a completely packed train in July.
It was a hot day and these poor people were stuck underground for almost 3 hours. They had to be evacuated from the train underground and walk through the tunnels of the nation's oldest subway system. I can't imagine the stench of dead rats, sewage and asbestos down there! Now I will have to be extra obsessive about making sure I have water and reading materials every time I roll the dice and hop on the red line.
Read more here: http://www.thebostonchannel.com/news/28520847/detail.html#ixzz1SSzy6sK0
It was a hot day and these poor people were stuck underground for almost 3 hours. They had to be evacuated from the train underground and walk through the tunnels of the nation's oldest subway system. I can't imagine the stench of dead rats, sewage and asbestos down there! Now I will have to be extra obsessive about making sure I have water and reading materials every time I roll the dice and hop on the red line.
Read more here: http://www.thebostonchannel.com/news/28520847/detail.html#ixzz1SSzy6sK0
The daily emails
My husband sent me an email this morning to ask how my ride in on the red line was. Following is my email response back to him:
My ride in started ok, then a curry/b.o. stinking dude with a huge backpack got on at N. Quincy and kept bumping into me and smelling up the place. The train was again very slow getting out of Quincy and of course had to stop on the tilted tracks outside JFK. Then at S. Station a girl with long curly hair got on and squeezed herself btwn me and some other person so her warm damp body was pressing against me and her hair was touching me. It was disgusting. Way too hot for that kind of cramming. Then at downtown crossing some gross tiny man pressed his moist hot sweaty arm against mine while trying to push through the crowd. People just don’t give a sh*t about touching other people and bumping. Am I the only person who doesn’t want to come into physical contact with any strangers????
Yesterday’s email to my sister (my first day back from a week’s vacation free from public transportation):
Miserable reality check this morning. Woke up with a headache and then the T was miserable. Peoples’ clammy skin touching me from all angles, a tall girl behind me whipping her very long pony tail so that her nasty hair touched my face, neck and arm REPEATEDLY, some dumb chick not holding on when the T came to a screeching halt on the tipped tracks outside JFK and stomped on my foot and elbowed my ribs, etc.
My ride in started ok, then a curry/b.o. stinking dude with a huge backpack got on at N. Quincy and kept bumping into me and smelling up the place. The train was again very slow getting out of Quincy and of course had to stop on the tilted tracks outside JFK. Then at S. Station a girl with long curly hair got on and squeezed herself btwn me and some other person so her warm damp body was pressing against me and her hair was touching me. It was disgusting. Way too hot for that kind of cramming. Then at downtown crossing some gross tiny man pressed his moist hot sweaty arm against mine while trying to push through the crowd. People just don’t give a sh*t about touching other people and bumping. Am I the only person who doesn’t want to come into physical contact with any strangers????
Yesterday’s email to my sister (my first day back from a week’s vacation free from public transportation):
Miserable reality check this morning. Woke up with a headache and then the T was miserable. Peoples’ clammy skin touching me from all angles, a tall girl behind me whipping her very long pony tail so that her nasty hair touched my face, neck and arm REPEATEDLY, some dumb chick not holding on when the T came to a screeching halt on the tipped tracks outside JFK and stomped on my foot and elbowed my ribs, etc.
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