Twirlwind on the 21

From the Muni Diaries submissions inbox:

I used to ride the 5-Fulton every morning and afternoon to and from work. I’d hop on the bus either at Clayton or Masonic, hang on for dear life, and thirty minutes later, arrive (slightly windblown and disheveled) at either my fantastic place of employment or within a half-block of my abode. From June through early August, San Francisco Ballet’s summer school students take the 5 to and from USF. The good thing is these students are very well behaved. They keep an eye out for the elderly and parents with young children, move their large dance bags filled with pointe shoes, iPods, and breakfast (bagels and bananas), stay mostly quiet in the early mornings, and travel in small groups.

And I stress this last part because a few years ago, two new dance summer programs started housing their students at USF, and they traveled in packs. And by packs, I mean 30+ students at a time, on their cell phones constantly, and heaving their bags to and fro like boulders. These new kids made riding Muni during rush hour a living nightmare. And it’s not just the sheer mass of them now 60 dance students at a bus stop is just crazy in and of itself… But that combined with the attitude of the newbies is a lot to handle at 8AM.

So what’s an intelligent, city-minded girl to do? Switch bus lines, right? Oh, wrong. Two years ago, I switched to the 21-Hayes bus line. It’s an extra few blocks walk south from the Fulton line. It’s a quieter, more local bus line. Neighbors are friendly, most people are pleasant, and the drivers, if they see a regular hobbling in three inch heels and frantically waving her bus pass while dragging her gym bag behind her, will hold the bus and say, “It’s good to see you!” as she climbs aboard. Who can’t heart the 21-line? Well, right now, me!

Read more

Public-Service Reminder: Always Practice Safe Sex

Unused (?) condom on the 47

Unused (?) condom on the 47

That’s right, folks. Mere inches from my brand-new haircut.

The 47 and 49 (both Van Ness lines, for those of you following along at home) really need to fight it out for the “And I thought I had seen it all…” crown. I personally go back and forth on the question of which I’d rather be on, though yesterday, I would have gladly eaten my lunch off a 49 (ok, ew, not really) considering what I was faced with on this 47.

First, a harmless man singing/yelling to the songs in his head and smelling 10 times worse than a portable toilet got on and sat in the back. Fine. It’s a freakin’ 47, after all. But that resulted in at least 10 people getting up and cramming themselves around the middle of the bus, since no one wanted to be back there with him. This results in a briefcase in my ass, an iPhone in my side, and a front-row seat to the freakishly large condom hanging by the back door.

Condom-leaver: next time, maybe don’t go with the magnums unless you’re absolutely sure you can fit in them, all right?

A Letter to a Fellow Passenger

Waiting for a phone call.
Photo by Flickr user Mylla

The use of cell phones appears to be the biggest bus etiquette faux pas this week. Rider Sara had an earful of phone conversation on the 5 from “Caroline” so she’s written her a personal letter here.

Caroline, summer student at the Lines Ballet School at USF, SHUT THE HELL UP.

The next time you think it’s a good idea to get on a completely packed 5 during evening rush hour and make phone call after phone call, why don’t you actually stop and think about it. And realize it is a terrible idea. I don’t need to hear you scream to your friend that, after much consideration, you decided you’d like to go to law school at Harvard or Yale. Oh, wow, it took consideration to realize the No. 1 and No. 2 ranked law schools in the nation are where you need to be? Good luck fighting for those spots with the million other idealistic kids who are going to apply to law school this year.

But as you said, your dad is right, you’re a shoe-in. I mean, you did three practice LSAT questions and got them all right! Congratulations. And your dream of going to law school so you can work at a nonprofit? I hope you’re willing to fight with the zillion laid off lawyers and deferred incoming associates whose law firms are paying them to go work at nonprofits.

Fortunately, I was able to turn my Kanye West up loud enough to drown out whatever you said next. That is, until you took the empty seat next to me and proceeded to call person after person at USF to inquire about the iPod you lost on campus today. It probably got stolen while you were on the 5 by someone like me who wanted you to pay dearly for making their commute more irritating than usual. I hope whoever stole it is enjoying the Taylor Swift and Kelly Clarkson you most likely have on that damn thing.

Got a Muni gripe or a holler? Let us know.

Ringtone Riot

cell phone silent (マナー) mode #450

In Japan, the Kanto Railway enforces that cell phones be on silent mode. Photo by Flickr user Nemo’s Great Uncle

I was riding the F line several months ago during the morning rush hour toward downtown. A teenage girl boarded somewhere around 8th or 10th Street, and her cell phone began playing some sort of ring tone at a very high volume. The driver told her that she needed to silence the phone, to which she explained, “I’m getting a text message.” When the phone continued to play, the driver stopped the car at the next stop and told her that she needed to either silence the phone or get off and that he was not moving the car until she did one or the other.

She again explained, “I’m getting a text message.” The explanation, of course, made no sense to anyone on the car. Silencing the ringer doesn’t prevent a text message from being received, and by this point, the phone had been playing the same ringtone for nearly five minutes. So the car didn’t move, she didn’t get off, and the other passengers, now becoming late for work, grew restless. Shouts began to erupt from the back of the train to “Turn the phone off!” Soon, the whole car had joined in the shouting, and the girl, instead of turning the phone off, kept shouting back that they should shut up because she was getting a text message. A riot felt imminent.

Read more

Just Another Night Riding the 22

Knife

It was a Friday night and I was on my way home from work. I had just gotten off BART at 16th Street and walked over to the bus stop to catch the 22. At first, everything seemed normal. Lots of people were begging for change, people were talking on their cell phones, other were people standing around waiting for the bus and tons of people were walking by in the general area. It seemed like another normal night at 16th and Mission.

As I waited for the 22, I heard some rowdiness over yonder, behind me. I looked over my shoulder and I saw that there were some guys goofing around with each other. They weren’t yelling. Just bumping into each other and being loud.

A few seconds later, these guys walked around to the front of the bus shelter where I was standing. There were three of them. Three Hispanic guys who spoke only Spanish. They were all over the place. One guy was even wandering in the street. I noticed that each of them had a bottle of tequila in their hand.

Suddenly, a black guy came out of nowhere and started speaking broken Spanish to these guys. The black guy walked in the street a bit and around the bus shelter, in plain sight of me, but out of view of the cameras located at the intersection. I’m not sure what triggered it, but one of the Spanish-speaking guys must have pissed off the black guy. This black guy was a young kid with nothing to lose. He seemed to be by himself and started talking mad shit to these guys in Spanish. It almost seemed like he was trying to egg them on into a fight. As soon as the black guy walked right in front of me, he lifted up his sweatshirt to show the fact that he had a gun in his drawers. Everyone standing in the bus shelter bolted out of the area, including myself. The other guys saw the gun, but continued talking back to the black guy. It was like the threat of the black guy having a gun and using it didn’t even phase them. These guys were obviously intoxicated.

Read more

Usually, It’s a Man Pleasing Himself in Public…

Lately Muni Diaries has been an unexpected place to learn about various fetishes. By now you’ve probably read or heard about the Muni Humper, who is technically a “frotter” – someone who gets pleasure from brushing against people. We’ve got the occasional exhibitionist (remember the ever-popular “public penis” guy?). And we just received this diary submission from Muni rider Nina Peters:

I was waiting for the J Church in front of Safeway (Church and Duboce) when I heard the faint ramblings of a crack whore in the distance. I was not concerned. I mean, the area is prone to these folks. But, I did notice that while walking down Church towards Market, she rubbed her hand on every car. It looked like she was just being the normal weirdo that I’ve come to love while living in SF- but there was definitely something strange in the air.

I continued to watch from the train stop island, and it paid off. When she finally reached a car to her liking, a light silvery-blue BMW, she jumped on the hood and began to masturbate on the hood. I was shocked. I’ve seen plenty of men in corners whacking away at the goods, but I’ve NEVER seen a woman in broad daylight go to town on the hood of a car in public. My train came and as it turned down the tunnel I craned my neck to be witness to the grand finale. But, as quickly as she had cum, she was gone.

Hmm. Expensive-Import-Car-Philia?

We’re always looking for educational Muni tales! Come on, don’t be shy.

 

1 54 55 56 57 58 67