Your place to share stories on and off the bus.
Many a tweet tonight about power lines down in the Mission, causing delays on several bus routes in the area.
If you experienced tonight’s form of Muni Meltdown™, let us know in comments, or send us a diary.
Photo by Flickr user limonada
Enhanced by wet clothing and umbrellas, of course.
Photo by Brian_Brooks from the Muni Photos Flickr pool.
carleighamalin from Twitter (you know her here as CAK) tweeted us the other day to ask the following:
Is it rude to FB friend someone you see on MUNI daily but dont want to actually converse with because I’m a.m. antisocial w/ ipod
We dusted off the ol’ Muni Diaries Magic 8-Ball to arrive at the following:
Facebook users tend to fall into two broad categories: Those who friend (yes, a verb, deal with it) liberally, and those who exercise restraint, thereby limiting themselves to, you know, “friends” who are people they know.
As with other internet traditions, there’s no cut-and-dried, black-and-white answer here. On the one hand, who knows what could come out of this friending, should it occur? On the other, not doing anything surely wouldn’t inhibit the possibility of, oh, say, talking to this someone in person, on the bus, if the opportunity presented itself.
And there’s always that remote possibility that your someone could be reading this right now, and know exactly who you are. And there you’ll have it.
Verdict: Go with your gut.
Why the quotes, Muni?
Meanwhile, check out this awesome “blog” about “unnecessary” quotation marks.
Photo by Bhautik Joshi
The first Muni Diaries pub crawl was a success! Despite some of us forgetting what time the festivities began *points at self*, a nice little group of us met up first at Lucky 13, surrounding a table covered in happy-hour pints, Goldfish crackers, popcorn and Muni Diaries buttons.
From there, we NextBus’d a 22, which we thought we were boarding. The marquis on the bus that pulled up read, “S.F. Muni,” and the driver asked everyone who boarded where they wanted to go. If their desired stop was along the route to (presumably) the Potrero yard, they were allowed gratis entry. Those of us ready to fork over fare lucked out, thanks to this exceedingly generous driver.
From there, we swung over to Dalva, where we happened to bump into Greg from N-Judah Chronicles on his way out. We convinced Greg and his brother to stick around, and they did. We picked up a couple more crawlers at Dalva (which, for the record, is an iPhone 3G and EDGE dead zone, thus the Twitter drop off last night), then proceeded to Mission to await a 14 or 49.
As with a number of interpersonal issues, writing a letter (with the optional step of posting it on the internet) can be a productive outlet to air one’s grievances. So …
Dearest Singing Guy on the 49 (Bus 7020),
You’re an asshat. But unlike a long line of asshats before you, you at least seem to know it.
I got on around 8 p.m. at Van Ness/Otis, that janky excuse for a block with Power Exchange on it. I only rode until 20th Street, but you actually managed to sing the whole time. But I guess god explicitly forbade you from singing something good, or even bad in a fun way. Whatever it was sounded like something my nephew would find on Barney. While you seem to be at or around the same developmental level as him (my nephew, not Barney. Well, actually…) you still looked closer to 30 than to 3. Unacceptable.