Eugenia Chien has been eavesdropping on the 47, 49, or 1 lines since the mid-90's. She lives by the adage, "Anything can happen on Muni" (and also, "That's not water.")

Weekend Photos: All By Myself

All The World Is A Stage
Photo by Troy Holden

Here are your weekend photos, fresh off the Flickr press. Don’t forget to send us your Bay to Breakers photos — drop it in our Flickr pool, email us, post it on our Facebook, however you want to show off the pics.

I’m still undecided on my own B2B costume: who’s with me in wearing brown and orange sequin running shorts?

Enjoy the photos and have a great weekend!

Oh, and check out which celebrity also rides Muni! We’ll have details on this most interesting Muni rider for you tomorrow.

Found on the 27: Jack Sparrow
photo by Brian, via Bernalwood

Tenderloin tales: one way hyde
Photo by Bhautik Joshi

West Portal
Photo by Jack Bool

Tracks03
Photo by Pete Rosos

Hipster’s Pandora’s Box


Photo by @vincent_chavez

Whoa, watch out, @vincent_chavez was sitting on the bus minding his own business and the girl next to him busts out this sinister-looking box. What is that plume of fuchsia smoke coming out of the top?

She’s probably just applying her makeup, but that box is pretty awesome. I gotta start carrying my stuff in better vessels, like an antique urn or something.

Ah, the things you see on Muni

Idea: Muni LRV Subway Dining Car


Photo: The New York Times

New Yorkers have changed their minds and decided that their trains are clean enough to eat in. A crew of pop-up restauranteurs staged a dining car aboard the L train a few days ago: “For one half-hour luncheon, a car on the L train was transformed into a traveling bistro, complete with tables, linens, silverware and a bow-tied maître d’hôtel,” according to a story in The New York Times.

Within moments, a car of the waiting train was transformed into a traveling bistro, complete with tables, linens, fine silverware and a bow-tied maître d’hôtel. “Is this your first time dining on the second car of the L train?” he asked, as guests filed in.

They had been lured by the promise of a clandestine dining experience. (“Please go to the North East Corner of 8th Ave and 14th St,” read the instructions e-mailed early that morning. “There will be a tall slender woman there with jet black hair who is holding an umbrella. Please just go up and introduce yourself. Her name is Michele and she is quite lovely, but no matter how hard you press she won’t tell you about the adventure you are going on.”)

In case you’ve filled up on your pay wall limit for the month, let me just tell you that diners noshed on caviar, foie, and chocolate panna cotta (“dusted with gold leaf”). Read more about the dinner party on the L, including how they rigged the tables on the train, staged dry runs for the dining experience, and the terse response from the MTA.

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