Author: Tara

Tara Ramroop has laughed, cried, and commiserated with this amazing community from the start. She's been writing for as long as she can remember and riding Muni for more than a decade.

Freestylin’ 49

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MUNI to City Center
Photo by Flickr user Transguyjay

Color me confused with a hint of annoyance, to be all angry-Muni-rider about it.

The gist: I get on a 49 at Van Ness and Oak, for my southbound journey into the Mish. Twice, at the same time of day, the same driver says that 14th Street will be the last stop. (Hint: it’s not supposed to be). A 14 or another 49 showed up both times before long. But it is cause for some mild WTF, particularly if it happens twice at the same time.

Sidenote: I’m all for a soft-spoken kinda guy, but this driver needs to speak up when he says that 14th Street will be the last stop. As expected, come 14th Street, a few people get off. But 20 other people sit confused as fellow passengers assume the task of explaining that this is indeed the final stop.

Also: The first time it happened, there was no indication on the bus’s marquee that it was ending its route at 14th Street. The second time, the sign was in that in-between-signs state. Like, maybe it says 14th, but wait … *hates self*

My understanding was that truncated lines are one-offs; they’re thrown in to thin the crowd of everyone that couldn’t get the earlier bus because it didn’t show up. So? Why’s this happening? Theories, whether serious or comedic fiction, welcome.

Category: diaries, WTF: Weirdness on Muni Tags: ,

Mister Muni Manners

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see
Photo by Flickr user annnna.

For better or worse, this can go straight into our warm-and-fuzzy category of Muni stories.

I was on a 49-Van Ness/Mission trying to get home one evening after work. It was a really nice day: one of several schizophrenic, nice weather vs. crappy weather ones we’ve been having. As usual, the bus was full by the time it got to my stop. I grabbed a spot, held on, and spaced out. Then, I hear the tiniest “excuse me.” It sounded like it came from a fairy sitting in someone’s pocket. I looked around and didn’t see anything, so I commenced spacing.

I heard it again, then looked down at a little boy sitting in a seat near me. He looked from me to his dad, who indicated that he should give up his seat for the nice lady (hey, that’s me!). But he had to say it himself: “would you like to sit down?” asked the tiniest, politest person I think I’ve ever met.

I thanked him, but declined the seat. On my way out, I told his pop that he had a really nice boy.

1) Yeah, yeah, I don’t care if pop only does that to get at the ladies. It’s still nice.

2) I’m not gonna lie, I think it’s bogus when men push me out of the way to get to a fresh seat first. Equal rights and chivalry aren’t mutually exclusive, after all. So it made me extra happy to see semblances of it on the bus.

3) Did I mention I was on the 49? And that something nice happened on it?

Category: diaries, Funny: Muni LOLs, reflection Tags: ,

Pleasant surprises

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Rider Alert
Photo by Telstar Logistics

It’s hard out there for an urban lady. You get cat-calls on your way to work, then you get yelled at all the way down the block for ignoring them. You turn around and look at everyone walking behind you, conveying to even the innocents that you could identify them in a lineup if you had to. It’s a part of a semi-automatic routine adopted for our various journeys throughout town. So pardon us if we’re a little suspicious of any and all people, particularly males, if we’re waiting for the bus.

So there’s this tall, larger, older-to-middle-age guy standing at the 14-Mission/49-Van Ness/former 26-Valencia stop on Otis Street. He’s got a little bag of presents in a tote bag, a receptacle that, for some reason, was not capable of holding the many items he had dangling around his neck. FastPass. Keys. Other card-type things. He’d probably have a troll on there if he could. His jeans are hiked up beyond his gut, resting comfortably around his chest. His vibe was a little off, right from the get-go. But a lot of people in SF are a little off; the question, as always, remains as to whether he was silly-off or dangerous-off.

He turns and asks me and Jeff, Mr. Muni Diaries, about the 26, after realizing on his own that it wasn’t in service anymore. His conversational rhythm came with lengthy, continued stares once you’ve answered his questions. He didn’t turn and look away at anything while he was talking. He didn’t turn around and see if the bus was down the street. While he stared our faces raw, he explained how he had many VHS tapes he was attempting to convert; had a little machine and everything. We basically ran into Milton from Office Space.

Less than a minute into this conversation, I did what any urban lady (or gentleman) does: suspiciously attempt to figure out whether this stranger is dangerous or just weird. The resulting train of thought, for those of us who weren’t Green Berets, is actually an amazing one, I must say. It can prompt everything from laughter, to embarrassment, to relief, to further suspicion, in the span of a minute, unlike any other learned or innate behavior.

“…what’s he staring at?” > “Hmm, could he be sizing me up for his freezer at home?” > “Does he have anything sharp?” > “What’s his expression like…you can always tell these psycho killers from their eyes, right?” > “Ah. Harmless.” It was a pleasant surprise, one that did make me feel a little silly (Who’s afraid of Milton? Turns out I am.)

But I really wouldn’t have it any other way if I’m going to keep (and I will) calling this wacky place home. Thanks, evolution.

Category: diaries, Funny: Muni LOLs, reflection Tags: ,

Obit-lettes: 21-Hayes, 10-Townsend

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21 Hayes - Downtown and the Ferry Plaza
Photo by Flickr user kodama (home)

SFMTA’s December 5 service changes include the elimination of portions of bus routes, in addition to the total elimination of some routes, and in other cases, increased service. A few riders wanted to share their thoughts on those parts of routes that will go the way of the dodo come this Saturday. First, here’s Noah, sparing no words for how he really feels about lopping off the Fulton portion of the 21-Hayes:

Good riddance.

Before the death of the Fulton portion of the 21-Hayes, people who lived on Fulton between Stanyan and 8th Ave had the benefit of two buses, the 5 and the 21. People who boarded the 21 on Hayes anywhere East of Divis had the benefit of zero buses during rush hour, because the 21 was always too full to stop.

Now, those of us who ride the 21 in a neighborhood where only the 21 goes by actually have a bus we can ride during rush hour.

SF Appeal has a helpful explanation of what exactly will be happening to the 21.

Next up is Muni Diaries favorite Tara, with a tale of woeful days ahead without her 10-Townsend:

Once BART drops me off at Embarcadero each morning at about 8:50, I scramble frantically, depending on what the NextBus prediction says, to Fremont and Market, awaiting my golden chariot: the 10-Townsend. It, usually reliably, takes me from downtown to the north end of town. It’s quiet, filled with polite folks (except for that one old guy I fought with that time), and rolls through one of the most thriving parts of town at 8:55 a.m. on a weekday. That said, it, um, pretty much empties by the time we pass Sansome and Lombard.

Though some lines are meeting their demise come Dec. 5, others, like the 10, are simply getting rerouted at certain points. Though yuppies like me should be able to deal with a minor glitch in his or her morning bus routine, yuppies like me end up having the biggest shitfits over this very thing. Total White Whine, if you will.

The long and short of it is that the 10 is now turning west on Jackson, instead of taking me all the way north, to my building at North Point and Stockton. I will miss you, that-part-of-the-10. Instead of jamming to my iPod or reading some to-be-a-movie-soon novel from Oprah’s list of recommendations, I usually preferred to stare out the window and watch the hubbub unfold. These are people going to work, bustling around in their businesswear and messenger bags. It actually makes me happy to be going to work, too, like we’re all in some sort of metropolitan club from 9-6 on weekdays. The best part was getting to see it all from my chariot, above the fray. I can still do some of that…but then I’ll have waited 10 minutes for a 10 minute bus ride, only to require another 15 minutes of walking. I might just have to bid adieu to the 10 altogether and walk the whole way, as it might not be worth the hassle when all is said and done.

Ultimately, if it’ll save Muni some cash, I can deal with it. The only thing it does is force me to leave the house about 15 minutes earlier in the morning, allowing me time to walk from downtown to Way Up There. Or, it forces me to hop on a 9x or a 9BX (soon to be rechristened the 8X, etc.), in the event I feel like a nice pushy morning ride or an elbow to the ribs is needed to jolt me awake for the day ahead. Either way, I will deal with it. But it doesn’t stop me from complaining about it here.

We’ll give you a break, Muni, if it’ll save you the cash. But try to cut us some slack next week while we all begrudgingly try to turn the speeding freight train around on our befuddled morning selves.

Check back tomorrow for the last of our Muni obituaries. It will be an all-day tribute to the almost-dearly departed 26-Valencia.

Category: Aww: Cute on Muni, diaries Tags: , ,

The why/where/how of fare inspectors

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Bustin the hobo.
Photo by Flickr user WeMeantDemocracy

It’s easy for us law-abiding, government-loving socialists to cheer when Muni fare inspectors show up on the bus. And cheer I did this week, when an alpha fare-inspector and her two ticket-wielding comrades showed up on my 47-Van Ness a couple days ago and handed out at least two tickets.

Though some drivers do have the time and desire to come up with creative punishments for fare-jumping, it’s understandable that most of them do not. Enter fare inspectors. Though one guy in front of me complained about Big Brother watching us, I personally don’t think it counts as some kind of police state if the law-enforcers are actually nabbing people who did wrong. Still, once I stopped silently cheering them on from my seat, I did start thinking about the why/where/how of back-door policing.

From an Oct. 19 SFGate story

Fare evasion on Muni occurs most frequently in the afternoon and at night, the study found. Among the lines where the problem is most prevalent are the 9-San Bruno, 14-Mission, 38-Geary and 47-Van Ness, but few are immune.

It doesn’t seem like an accident that the 47, one of four lines called out in this story, ended up with not one, but three fare inspectors the day after this story ran. Great, whatever works, right? But it did lead me to wonder whether the fare-checking would continue in earnest once the story died down and once the SFMTA office was jammed with people contesting their fines.

In other words, I wondered whether this was simply a good show or temporary move to prove that something was being done. Or will fare-jumping significantly decrease in a year’s time? I certainly hope it’s the latter, especially since I’d argue that fare-jumping is easier to eradicate than other types of petty crime.

Let me explain. We learned from an SF Gate story on crime cameras that certain crimes (homicide, drug deals, etc.) are conveniently moved out of the cameras’ range if cameras are around, thereby decreasing the crime in one area and increasing it one block down. Before you know it, it’s a life-size game of whack-a-mole for the police.

Fare-jumping seems more precise than that. If you’re on Van Ness and want to head into the Mission on Muni, the 49-Van Ness or 14-Mission is your only real way to accomplish this. If you know there are fare inspectors on either line, you are either going to pay your fare, take your chances, or find another line to jump if all you’re into is wasting time on the bus. But if there’s regular fare-inspecting, I think jumpers are more easily backed into a corner, as there are only so many lines that can remain uncovered. Especially if there are more fare inspectors on the hottest jumping lines, during the hottest jumping times.

Or maybe this is completely false logic. Nonetheless, fare inspectors really can’t hurt anyone, in my opinion.

Disclaimer: Before I officially lived in SF and carried a trusty FastPass wherever I went (and uh, before I contributed regularly to a transit-oriented website), I’d somewhat regularly sneak onto the back of an F-Market/Wharves line on my way to work. I could have easily paid the then-$1.50 a ride, but I couldn’t be bothered. I didn’t have cash. Muni “owed” me for some transgression. Everyone else was doing it. All of these are poor excuses.

Category: diaries, reflection Tags:
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