Memoir of Racist Dude on #45

Tuesday morning in North Beach. I have a bad vibe that the 45-Stockton is gonna be sardine city. A big crowd is already waiting at Columbus and Stockton for the morning commute down Stockton, over Market, along Fourth and to Brannan and beyond.

It was sardine city alright. Some joker standing near me, carrying a Barack Obama doll, is starting to lose it as local Asians along the Chinatown route squeeze into the matriculated bus and loudly speak in dialects unrecognizable to me. The racist white dude on 45 utters for all to hear: “That’s why I support birth control and nuclear war.” I was thinking: What a racist jackass. I kept my mouth shut, so as not to create a nuclear incident on a packed bus. However, I wanted to ask the guy, “If everybody practiced birth control, who would you kill with nuclear arms?”

– David

Confession: I’m a rude newspaper reader on Muni

Yesterday while on the J train, I thought I’d use my time wisely by reading my Sunday New York Times (yes, yes, I am two days late but it’s only the Style section).  As soon as I took out the paper from my backpack I realized that the Style section isn’t a very stylish and practical read while on Muni. With riders sitting on both side of me and two more people standing right at my knee, I could hardly even turn the page! The guy who sat next to me was reading a compact little novel and gave me a dirty look when I accidentally brushed the side of his face with my unwieldy newsprint.

Thankfully, the lovely ladies at Muni Manners pointed out the correct etiquette for reading the newspaper while in transit. They suggest “folding for minimum impact” by preparing the paper pre-boarding. Brilliant!

Eugenia

morning hazards

In one of the more unpleasant wake-up calls I’ve had in a while, I took a pointy high heel (with weight behind it) to the second toe this morning on the F.

There was probably a missed run or an accident up the line this morning, because I had to cram into an already moderately full F. The 30-deep crowd on the island at Market and Main Street all crammed in both sets of doors, which led to the accidental jab to my sandaled foot.

The F has consistently pissed me off, but this is the first time it actually bit back.

Tara Ramroop may never wear open-toed shoes on the F again. Got any Neosporin?

burn, baby, burn

Could this be the solution to all our problems?

Of course, not. But honestly, think about what would happen (and how busy our fire department would be) if people did this every time Muni was late during commute hour.

On a more serious note, think about how many Muni-dependent workers might have this same story:

“Many passengers said the delays, caused by a broken down train, had cost them a day’s work.”

Disclaimer: Muni Diaries is, in no way, suggesting this as a solution to our craptastically unreliable transit system.

tales of the 49, part 2

The two main buses running down Van Ness have a certain je ne sais quoi. Actually, scratch that, I do know what it is: they can’t run properly (i.e., on time) because that street is a horrible place to attempt a move from Point A to Point B.

6:19 p.m.: Time I step on a 49-Van Ness, heading toward the Mission.

7:11 p.m.: Time I step off the same bus and start walking to Jeff’s house.

Summary: I was on the same bus for 52 minutes, mostly on Van Ness, as it crawled along at an infuriating snail’s pace, to go a total of 3.3 miles. To put it in perspective, the 2.2-mile, straight-line leg from North Point and Van Ness to Mission and Van Ness took 40 minutes; 511 Trip Planner says that same leg should take about 24 minutes.

Crappy service on Van Ness is one Muni meltdown that usually isn’t the agency’s fault. Yesterday was especially not its fault, thanks to a brush fire on Yerba Buena Island that snarled traffic on the Bay Bridge and on the Van Ness approach to the freeway. Still, I think we can all agree that it really sucks to be on a bus for an hour.

Read more

Delicate Etiquette When Giving Up Your Seat

I was on the 47 Van Ness yesterday following the fire at the Castro station that put KLM etc out of service for a period of time. When a group of riders got on at the Van Ness and Geary stop, I saw that a few of them were perhaps elderly and definitely looking kind of tired. So I got up and gave up my seat because I was getting off at the next stop anyway.

“Ugh! Do I look THAT old?”

I heard a voice behind me as I tried to make my way to the back of the bus.

You just can’t win!

Eugenia

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