‘God, this guy is tweeking out on this 49′

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Photo by Flickr user digiyesica

The following tweets and photos are presented to you thanks to Connor, aka, Metroliner

~ 11:54 a.m., 7.2.09: God, this guy is tweeking OUT on this 49. #muni

~ a few minutes later: funny thing is he looks very clean. New shoes, hands look clean, clean new clothes. Meth is weird.

Video could’ve made this experience even more lovely. But for now, Connor’s kind message to us will have to do.

Anyone see/hear/god forbid — touch this fella? Let us know in comments.

I Dream of Muni: Geary Rail Line, and Sutro Witches

Lennies attack the border between San Francisco's Central and Outer Richmond!

Beth W. sent this to us via email, all about a rad dream she had the other night. Ah, we can still dream, can’t we?

I dreamed Friday night that there was another LRV Muni line. Its tracks ran along Geary all the way to the cliffs above Ocean Beach, and stopped at the very edge of the cliffs. Instead of having a letter for its line name it had a number (4, which currently belongs to Sutter). I found out about it because I was down on the beach talking to some women who claimed to be witches who did magic in the caves underneath the cliffs. They said some huge disaster had happened years ago, making the line inoperable. I was really excited to learn about it — somehow I had never noticed the tracks on the roadway before.

After talking to these women, I climbed up to the clifftop and, sure enough, saw the tracks. But then a train came along, even though apparently the line hadn’t operated in years. Of course I climbed on board! But the train cars weren’t the normal ones — they were rounded and dark red on the exterior, and had the tops cut off, kind of like those open-air tour buses. I rode all the way downtown. It was full of passengers, all of whom seemed excited to ride the new line.

I love it when I dream about things in SF that don’t exist. Has anyone else had a crazy Muni dream?

Send us your dreams, fantasies, and real-life experiences on Muni!

Photo by Flickr user 2composers

Driver Smoke Breaks

smoke_break

The following came to us from Matt Baume, the man behind the Muni Alerts Twitter account, among other things he’s spearheaded.

I took this photo at the end of the 41 and 45 lines, where drivers take breaks after a run. One driver is smoking. She doesn’t have a driver number on her uniform.

This raises a tough question. Smoking at transit stops is illegal in SF — Muni maps spell out the exact code that prohibits it — but what are drivers supposed to do if they’re addicted to nicotine? Where are they supposed to go to smoke on their break?

This lady seemed like a nice person but her smoke was stinking up the whole bus stop. I don’t know what the solution is, aside from firing smokers. I guess you could argue that smokers are unfit to drive buses, since they’ve chosen a habit that adversely affects their ability to do their job legally. But that also seems pretty harsh.

— Matt Baume

What do you think? Sound off in the comments section.

Hot Operator Voice

bart train
Photo by Flickr user drain

This charming story is by Suzanne

I always cringe if I end up on the N-Judah headed toward Caltrain with the conductor who likes to announce the 2nd and King stop as: “home to the house that Barry built.” I curse him for making me think about Barry Bonds, drugs, and the corporate sports machine so early in the morning.

There are many Muni voices we love and hate to recognize. Who hasn’t heard the announcer who draws out the broken elevator messages into three-minute pronouncements more fitting for a get-you-in-the-mood Motown record? Then there’s that BART conductor who takes on the role of airport commissary when en route to SFO, and city ambassador when at Powell. He has a zingy, upbeat, professional voice that is not wholly unpleasant.

Read more

About the Chicken Story (and Perils of Running a User-Generated Site)

I was standing on the side of the stage at the Make-Out Room last Friday at Riders with Drinks when our emcee Suzanne brought up four members of the audience to tell their own Muni story. As one of the audience members began to tell a story about an Asian (Chinese?) woman bringing a live chicken on the bus, I cringed. The story sounded uncomfortably familiar.

In the story, the bus driver tells the woman that live animals are not allowed on board. NonplussedUnaffected, she snaps the chicken’s neck and boards the bus.

Minutes later another writer in the audience approached us and echoed my discomfort: This story sounded remarkably like an urban legend she had heard before.  When it was time to give away a prize to the best storyteller, the audience chanted, “Chicken! Chicken!” I felt even more uncomfortable. In the chaos of running an event, we did not have a chance to intervene on stage, but the “chicken story” stayed in my mind all weekend.

A little internet search showed that various forms of the “chicken story” has been circulating the city for a few years. But if an audience member said that she witnessed the story first-hand, isn’t that the end of story?

Not for us.

Read more

Canon in D Jam Out at Powell Station

Here in the Bay Area, home to world-class symphonies, ballets, and operas, we tend to undervalue so-called street musicians. New York, Paris, and London, to name just a few “Western” examples, do not take for granted the value of a sweet, sometimes semi-spontaneous burst of aural delight to break up the monotony of their streetlife. Is it because streetlife here is so readily associated with mental illness? Is it because the music we hear at BART stations and even occasionally on Muni is actually just shitty, and we’d be better off listening to the crazy shit people say around here? What is it?

In any case, we were happy to find this gem on Twitter late last week. This is worth breaking up your day with. Come on, feel the noise!

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