It strikes me that few of the people I encounter on the bus have any idea how to sit properly.
Most of the seats on a standard MTA bus are forward-facing, and arranged in pairs. The proper way to sit in these seats is to walk in crab-style, that is, sideways, body facing forward. When situated directly in front of an empty seat, one bends one's knees and lowers one's behind gently onto the seat.
That's how I sit. I was raised properly, that is, not by wolves.
The way almost everyone else does this sitting thing: Find an empty seat. Stand sideways in the aisle and quickly aim one's voluminous ass downward, roughly toward the seat. Drop all 350-lbs of weight heavily onto seat/slam backpack into passenger in window seat. Scootch butt around to face forward. Or not.
Sometimes this technique works, but most of the time that giant ass (if no backpack is present) lands partly on the person already seated by the window. Occasionally, but not very often, there is a "oh, sorry," but most of the time the offending Ass-Owner is annoyed at finding another person already in the seat.
Just about every morning and afternoon, I am treated to the view of at least one giant ass headed my way. Occasionally it's a smaller ass. But it's always an ass.
Posted by theminx on MTA Diaries.
Tuesday, October 1, 2013
Tuesday, September 10, 2013
Long Time No Post
I haven't posted here in quite a while. It's not that the MTA isn't still raising my ire, it's that I've been busy with other projects. And I find I've been saving my best posts for Facebook.
However, a few things have been annoying me enough to post here again.
One of those things happened the other day. My brother, father, and I went to an Orioles game and felt that taking the Light Rail would be the most convenient means of transportation. It worked out very nicely the times we rode the train to Manufacturers and Traders Trust Company Bank Stadium, the stop for which is just a short piece away from Camden Yards, and we trusted it would work out well this time, too.
The trip down to the stadium was fine - the Orioles are in no danger of being in the playoffs, so the game was sparsely attended. That meant the train had plenty of seats. The trip home was a different story altogether.
We stuck it out to the bitter end of the game, which ended with a bizarre foul ball pop-up double play. We weren't the only ones, so many dozen people crowded the train platform for a 20-minute wait. In the meantime, my companions railed on about how the MTA should have trains ready and waiting to sweep passengers away from the area. Clearly they are not regular MTA users.
Eventually, a train arrived and I elbowed my way on to save a seat for elderly Dad. As we approached the Cultural Center stop, the conductor informed the train that there was a stoppage/blockage on the line ahead so he was dumping us all off at North Avenue. A mere two stops away. There would be a "bus bridge" available to take passengers to the next available Light Rail stop.
After a lightning fast mental calculation, 3 full Light Rail Trains (potentially 528 passengers)\83 passengers total per MTA Bus = 6.36 buses required, I realized that we were fucked, since there's no way in hell that seven empty buses would magically appear where needed. I called my darling husband and informed him of the situation, while at the same time tried to get the attention of my brother and father over the din of the train. My plan was to evacuate at Mt Royal, where the tracks were still easily accessible to the street, so Mr Minx could swoop in and pick us up.
I don't know how the poor schmucks fared on North Avenue, but my plan worked like a charm, and my knight in shining armor rescued us from further clusterfuckage.
This whole episode reminded me of something that happened on the bus a few weeks back.
Despite the "no food, drink, radios" sign on every MTA bus, people still insist on eating chicken wings, drinking coffee, and playing clearly audible music. Because they are above the law like that. One such fool boarded the bus at Baltimore and Paca and proceeded to drop a 64-oz Super Colossal Big Ass-sized styrofoam cup full of what appeared to be iced tea on the ground at the front of the bus. He picked up the cup, kicked the ice under a seat, and sat down. Unbeknownst to us, the bus driver called his dispatcher and reported the "dangerous situation." As we approached North Avenue, he decided to tell us he was throwing us off the bus and taking it in to the garage for cleaning.
By that point, the floor was dry--it was a hot day, and North Avenue is quite a bit away from Baltimore and Paca. We figure the driver had just found himself a nice excuse to cut out early.
So we got off the bus and stood on that lovely corner of North and Greenmount to await our next chariot. I suppose it could have been worse: we could have been put off at Preston and Greenmount, or by the Jail....
Eventually, another 48 came trundling up the road and the other displaced passengers and I clambered aboard and even found seats. Including a woman with a 64-oz Super Colossal Big Ass-sized styrofoam cup...
...who proceeded to dump the entire thing on the floor.
Deja vu all over again. Thankfully, this bus driver didn't care if any of the passengers slipped and fell in the mess and I was able to get home without switching vehicles yet again.
Posted by theminx on MTA Diaries.
However, a few things have been annoying me enough to post here again.
One of those things happened the other day. My brother, father, and I went to an Orioles game and felt that taking the Light Rail would be the most convenient means of transportation. It worked out very nicely the times we rode the train to Manufacturers and Traders Trust Company Bank Stadium, the stop for which is just a short piece away from Camden Yards, and we trusted it would work out well this time, too.
The trip down to the stadium was fine - the Orioles are in no danger of being in the playoffs, so the game was sparsely attended. That meant the train had plenty of seats. The trip home was a different story altogether.
We stuck it out to the bitter end of the game, which ended with a bizarre foul ball pop-up double play. We weren't the only ones, so many dozen people crowded the train platform for a 20-minute wait. In the meantime, my companions railed on about how the MTA should have trains ready and waiting to sweep passengers away from the area. Clearly they are not regular MTA users.
Eventually, a train arrived and I elbowed my way on to save a seat for elderly Dad. As we approached the Cultural Center stop, the conductor informed the train that there was a stoppage/blockage on the line ahead so he was dumping us all off at North Avenue. A mere two stops away. There would be a "bus bridge" available to take passengers to the next available Light Rail stop.
After a lightning fast mental calculation, 3 full Light Rail Trains (potentially 528 passengers)\83 passengers total per MTA Bus = 6.36 buses required, I realized that we were fucked, since there's no way in hell that seven empty buses would magically appear where needed. I called my darling husband and informed him of the situation, while at the same time tried to get the attention of my brother and father over the din of the train. My plan was to evacuate at Mt Royal, where the tracks were still easily accessible to the street, so Mr Minx could swoop in and pick us up.
I don't know how the poor schmucks fared on North Avenue, but my plan worked like a charm, and my knight in shining armor rescued us from further clusterfuckage.
This whole episode reminded me of something that happened on the bus a few weeks back.
Despite the "no food, drink, radios" sign on every MTA bus, people still insist on eating chicken wings, drinking coffee, and playing clearly audible music. Because they are above the law like that. One such fool boarded the bus at Baltimore and Paca and proceeded to drop a 64-oz Super Colossal Big Ass-sized styrofoam cup full of what appeared to be iced tea on the ground at the front of the bus. He picked up the cup, kicked the ice under a seat, and sat down. Unbeknownst to us, the bus driver called his dispatcher and reported the "dangerous situation." As we approached North Avenue, he decided to tell us he was throwing us off the bus and taking it in to the garage for cleaning.
By that point, the floor was dry--it was a hot day, and North Avenue is quite a bit away from Baltimore and Paca. We figure the driver had just found himself a nice excuse to cut out early.
So we got off the bus and stood on that lovely corner of North and Greenmount to await our next chariot. I suppose it could have been worse: we could have been put off at Preston and Greenmount, or by the Jail....
Eventually, another 48 came trundling up the road and the other displaced passengers and I clambered aboard and even found seats. Including a woman with a 64-oz Super Colossal Big Ass-sized styrofoam cup...
...who proceeded to dump the entire thing on the floor.
Deja vu all over again. Thankfully, this bus driver didn't care if any of the passengers slipped and fell in the mess and I was able to get home without switching vehicles yet again.
Posted by theminx on MTA Diaries.
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