Muni Newbie Orientation

What do Muni newbie riders need to know?

Because most people I know are seasoned transit riders, I tend to forget that Muni gets brand-new riders every day. Rider Melissa has just made the transition from BART to Muni, and told us:

Funny how different the commuter scene is. Lesson for today in Muni Riders vs. BART Riders: Muni Riders just don’t give a fuck! (Excuse my language…but it’s so true.) Doesn’t matter if you’re elderly, handicapped, young…Muni riders are all out for themselves. You just have to be aggressive and don’t take anything personally. Everyone is just trying to go where they need to go. [I’m] slowly learning and transitioning to a daily Muni rider….we’ll see how it goes.

Despite her skepticism, Melissa took a picture of her very first Muni pass to share with us, above.

I’m not sure I totally agree with Melissa’s assessment because I feel that on any Muni line, if you don’t know to step down, the rest of the bus will let you know. And if the back door doesn’t open for you, more than one rider will yell “Back Door” on your behalf. I’ve seen riders organize half the bus to move back for a wheelchair passenger to get on the 22. But maybe there’s something about BART riders that I don’t know?

Whenever I have visitors in town, this is my usual Muni-orientation talk:
– $2, try exact change or 3-day pass.
– Keep your transfer; it’s good for any direction.
– Step down to exit
– Some bus signs are simply painted on telephone poles (I think visitors find this consistently confusing).

Then I just give them a route map and they’re on their way.

What else would you tell a Muni newbie?

Least-favorite BART commuters

"Whatchya Readin'?"
Photo by dannyman

CCT has the deets. Here are some highlights:

Music demon
He’s listening to this music, and it’s so loud you don’t need to share his headset — you can hear it at the other end of the carriage. He won’t have any hearing left in 12 months if he keeps up this noise level. Despite the misconception that this is not limited to young people and rap music, this blasting of tunes is also regularly displayed by 30-somethings with country tracks and the familiar middle-aged AC/DC fan in his business suit — easy to spot with the foot beating to Angus Young’s guitar.

Headbanger
Not to be confused with the Music Demon, these are the BART riders who wear their handbags, satchels or computer bags over their shoulders and walk down the center aisle banging heads and shoulders as they go, oblivious to the damage they cause. This species is often experienced in the center aisle on domestic flights as well. Be careful because they are also known to attack your cheek, your ears and the occasional eye. Advice: Put your bag on the floor between your feet. I would like to get off the train in a half-hour without damage to my facial features.

Read more at Contra Costa Times, whose URL-generation baffles the mind …

Thank you, friendly 23 driver, from awkward bike girl

Bikes On The Bus
Photo by Flickr user Pete Boyd

I just got my first ‘grown-up’ bike this week! In preparation for loading it on the bus, I watched a YouTube video on how to use the bike rack on Muni. I was set!

That is, until I didn’t place the hook over the wheel properly. Bumping over the St. Francis hills on Monterey boulevard, my bike almost fell off the rack. Thankfully, the driver stopped in time, and was really friendly and patient while I fought with the rusty wheel hook and put it properly in place.

I was so embarrassed, but the driver was so nice and encouraging, I felt a lot better about it.

I ended up on his bus on the way home a few hours later, and he told me to take my time to get it right this time around. I thanked him, but forgot to ask his name.

So, again, thanks friendly driver with the Muni beanie on the 23 route between 6:00 and 11:00pm on May 20, 2010. You made my evening!

– Laurel, the awkward bike girl

Late night commercial shoot in West Portal station

West Portal Station
Photo by Flickr user Whole Wheat Toast

Rider Chris saw something “indelibly strange” at the West Portal station last night:

Around 10:30 p.m., a full film crew (lighting, boom mics, folding chairs chairs; the whole shmear) was shooting a T-Mobile commercial on the inbound platform of West Portal station. Apparently some high-caliber “account executives” were on-scene to watch the filming take place, explained a production assistant (who was very clearly amped on something stronger than mere caffeine.)

Now, as this film shoot was happening, passengers and trains kept filing onto the platform as normal. Grandmothers with laden grocery bags consistently strode stolidly past the unmoving security guys and directly through the shoot. Utter chaos.

I have no idea how this concept got OK-ed by anyone (both on the commercial “creatives” side and in MUNI) but the pure and obvious silliness of the logistical problems posed by the outgoing trains and the waves of passengers still issuing through the station made for depths of absurdity that even Muni rarely reaches.

Alas, Chris was caught without a camera (dude, camera phone!).  If you captured this silliness (which I would loved to have witnessed), send us the photos, please!

A misfired projectile in Tiffany’s airspace

1-california-clay-and-powell
Photo by christine.ricks

100 Muni StoriesJesse told a two-minute version of this story at Muni Diaries Live! two Fridays ago, and there was no question that he was the crowd favorite of the evening. People couldn’t get enough of Jesse so we asked him to write his story in full here for you.

I was heading home from work, a task that takes about 45 minutes and one transfer. In the afternoons, I prefer to take the 1-California, as it has consistently proven to be the gentler, cleaner, more Asian cousin of the consistently troubling 38-Geary. Little did I know that this was to be no ordinary ride home. This was a bus ride that, even years later, is still burned into the memory portions of my brain (those are somewhere in the upper middle, right?). When dealing with Muni, I suppose one should always expect the unexpected.

As I approached the bus shelter, I heard a loud, angry voice taking someone to task for being a “Lazy-Assed Cracker.” Soon it was revealed that the man attached to the voice was a tall fellow who would sporadically refer to himself in the third person. His name was Leroy. Leroy seemed to be pushing 60, though I suppose he could have been younger. One thing was for sure; Leroy was not new to the streets. He was crusty in a way that is almost special. It seemed that Leroy had maintained a long and devout abstinence to water, since Y2K was a genuine threat. Leroy’s hands were swollen, coated in years and layers of sedimentary funky junk and it dawned on me that Leroy’s claws have quite possibly touched many of the same public surfaces that mine have over the years (I resolved at once to stop biting my nails). His T-shirt advertised the 1984 Los Angeles Summer Olympics and was so timeworn that maintaining its structure must have been accomplished through ancient magic long since forgotten.

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