Your place to share stories on and off the bus.
Photo by Flickr user baking_in_pearls
Photo by Flickr user Ben+Sam
Photo by Flickr user Still Burning
Muni I spy: woman in a navy blue LEATHER skirt suit.
Muni I spy: man in winnie the pooh overalls.
Muni I spy: ginger mullet woman!
Muni I spy: Heels and sweatpants … never a good look.
Reader Scott sends this compelling image.
And there’s this one, which I snapped quite a few months ago (can’t recall which bar’s bathroom I was in, to be honest).
I understand there’s a lot of public anger out there. But, “skull fuck”? Ouch.
Photo by Flickr user kodama
We received this letter from Jenella, who wanted to tell a story from the perspective of a Muni driver’s spouse.
As a spouse of a Muni driver, I understand there is a lot of hate towards Muni drivers. So I thought I’d tell a story about the other side since we always hear about the passengers and their experiences. How about a story about a Muni driver’s experiences?
Every work day, my husband irons and presses his uniform. I shake my head in disbelief. He’s only a bus driver. Being a second generation born and raised in San Francisco transit operator, he takes pride in moving commuters through his great city.
He leaves the house 45 minutes before his relief point just to make sure he’s on time. The nerve! On time….Ha! What a joke. With the new cut backs on a few Muni lines, management also cut back on end of the line times. The only break a Muni driver gets is at the terminal when he heads back to do the run again. So if the driver gets caught up in traffic, or has unruly passengers or the bus breaks down, that can eat up a five minute break easily. This is a common occurrence.
Take for example last night, Sunday night, hubby went seven hours without a break. God forbid he stopped to pee! Besides with his “fat” checks he doesn’t deserve a break, right? Maybe if a driver was allowed a break between a nine-hour shift, there may be less accidents. Read more
Photo by Agent Akit
We’ve gotten a few complaints in the Muni Diaries inbox about using TransLink as proof of payment. If you haven’t heard, you can get free Translink cards starting today at select locations – yes, adults too. See details here.
Now, onto the inbox. I hope you won’t be running into these issues using your brand new Translink card…
Rider Deng-Kai entered the Powell station using a TransLink card and walked back upstairs to ask the station agent when the next N is coming. Upstairs, a fare inspector asked for proof of payment:
I flash my TransLink card in the air as I walk towards the booth and say, “I’m just going to ask the station agent a question.”
Fare inspector walks over to me, ask me for POP, I show my TransLink card again while I’m asking the station agent about the next train and complaining that the predictions are totally wrong. At no time does he scan my card even though I tell him to in order to properly show my POP.
I walk away muttering under my great, “God Muni sucks” Fare inspector walks over to me and says, “What did you just say to me?” I say back, “I didn’t say anything to you.” He says, “Are you giving me attitude?” I calmly say, “No, I’m not giving you attitude” He’s in my face now and starts saying stuff like, “Well if you give me attitude I can give it right back to you” and “You think you can mess with me, huh?” I don’t say anything. Then he says, “You know what, I’m going to write you up.” I ask what for and he says, failure to display POP. I contest it and refuse to sign the citation but he still gives it to me.
Separately, rider Katy asked:
I was told to get a TransLink card by a flyer I received at the Montgomery St station at the beginning of February so I bought a $5 card at a Walgreens (Fasts passes are free, why aren’t these?).
Katy’s TransLink card did not work but she didn’t have cash at the time and was about to be late for work. She was given a $75 citation at the Montgomery station when fare inspectors checked for proof of payment. She details her expense:
I will contest that since it was clear that the card had become defective by no fault of my own. But still, $75 is not something I can afford. So I called TransLink customer service expecting some sort of apology but no. I have to send back the card to Fremont so they can determine if the card is defective.
…
Here is my grand total for this nightmare:
$5 TransLink card + $55 balance on the card + $75 citation + $.47 stamp to send card back + $22 in fares while waiting for the TransLink card to be sent back to me = $157.47.
I checked with SFMTA: to use TransLink as proof of payment, fare inspectors need to swipe it to check the time.
Here are a few ways to protest your citation. Katy, let us know if you’re successful in protesting the citation?
And about the $5 TransLink card fee? Typically you can get the TransLink card without the $5 if you buy it online and sign up for the Autoload option (where TransLink automatically loads your card with the amount you specify if your TransLink card dips below $10.) But if you missed the beginning of the post, you can get a free card on select dates starting today to April 30 (check SFMTA’s page for exact time and location).
Twitterer @twinpeaks_sf sends us a photo of this relic: The ill-fated Muni double-decker experiment of 2007.
Oh, the romance that could have been! But like most romantic gestures, the double-decker bus wasn’t exactly practical. The Examiner pointed out that overgrown trees and tunnel clearance posed problems, and passengers coming down the stairs made each bus stop take longer than it should (can you imagine?)
As twinpeaks_sf noted, “The good old days …”
Reminds me of a great song: “And if a double-decker bus kills the both of us …”
Photo by Troy Holden
True, there is no “one” Muni experience. But there’s a generalized feeling. I think most people drawn to Muni Diaries know what I’m talking about. I’m not a great writer, but I’ll do my best to describe my ride Tuesday morning, and maybe you’ll see what I mean.
I joined a gaggle of waiting-to-pay F-Market/Wharves riders, calmly queuing as the streetcar pulled up to Market and Main. There was a light sprinkle, but nothing so bad as to make us clamor and push.
I took my place, standing, just inside the row of seats, near the driver. I overheard a passenger boarding behind me ask the driver whether she stopped at “Thirty-third.” “Pier 33, you mean?” driver asked. “Yeah,” the rider said. “Yes, I do.” “How much?” “Two dollars,” driver said. “For disabled?” rider asked. “Oh, no, $0.75.” Coins deposited, we start to move slowly.
The woman in the disabled-designated seat in front of me kindly offered our newest passenger the seat. “Nah, I’m good to stand.” “Are you sure? Please take the seat.” “Okay, thank you.”
I honestly believed I had just witnessed one of those rare, poignant scenes of real-world decency. Everything seemed to be running so smoothly and smiles were appearing on the faces of the crowded passengers.
… until. Read more