Tuesday, June 20, 2006
BART, not the BART, or Bart, but I rode BART today or I BARTED in. It wasn't like this when I rode THE subway. I didn't subway in and I definitely never rode subway in. Very interesting, this Northern California place, which doesn't quite feel like home yet and doesn't really feel all that different from the blur of places that we have lived in so far. If you're counting, this is our sixth residence in seven years. It's not as bad as it sounds, as we lived in three places in our first year, but still, our nomadic existence continues. This place just has a weird hippy vibe to it. Maybe speaking of the mass transportation system as if it was a living thing has something to do with it. Or maybe the six trash cans I have. Or the fact that I found myself in lycra yesterday riding around on a bike. Has this place already begun demasculinizing me? Is that even a word? Did I just invent a word similar to how the NoCalites have invented a living thing that goes through tubes and takes you to the city (I refuse to capitalize city. There is only one City and that is NY.)?
Ok, on to the picture. Apparently, it is ok to sit on the ground on BART. I'm not sure how BART feels about this because you know, he's alive (oh, crap, what if BART is a female and my chauvinistic tendencies are creeping in assuming that BART is a he?? - I hope none of the NoCalites I know read this or I'm screwed. Wait, who am I kidding, I have Vinny Bag O' Donuts on my side. What are they going to do? Call the recycling police on me?) So yes, I've seen this behavior many times by people dressed casually and by those dressed professionally. It's weird I tell you. Now I'm assuming that the NoCalites are comfortable sitting on carpet and would likely not do this on THE subway. Let me tell you something, BART's carpet and cushions are nasty. It skeeves me out just sitting on the thing. I don't even want to think about what's been spilled or shot into those things. The carpet and cushions have got to be the originals. They are seriously brown.
Ok, next amusing BART story, but first a sidenote. I hadn't posted anything recently about my travels on the subway. Not because the subway became boring, but because anything that I'd see had become commonplace. Subway performers? I knew them all by name. Women getting punched? I could pick the guy out in a lineup. Women purse snatchers? Again, line 'em up Law and Order and I'll testify. The one thing that I thankfully didn't see was a guy dropping his drawyers and diarreahing all over the place. I've heard about it, but never witnessed it. If I ever see that on BART, I'll take a pic as I'm plugging my nose. Ok, so I thought that my BART rides would be considerably more tame than the subway and that my days of mass transit photography were over. I was wrong. Within the last 24 hours, I have the lovely pic above, as well as one of the funniest lines I've ever heard. No pics. Sorry.
I'm riding home last night and happen to sit next to a woman whose age I couldn't even approximate. Oldish, but not super old. I think. As soon as we're out of the tunnel that goes under the Bay (I'll capitalize this one.), she whips out her cell phone and begins conversing with someone that I assume is her daughter. Her daughter has problems. Can't handle the kids, can't handle her job, can't handle her boyfriend, her car is messed up, her house is a wreck, and to top it off, she wasn't able to go grocery shopping yesterday and has nothing to eat. This isn't just me snooping. The whole car knows what is going on. Wait, it gets better. The mother (remember, she's sitting right next to me) begins to go off on her. "You need to listen to me. All you do is complain and whine. You're never trying to solve your problems, just talk about them. Listen to me and I'll tell you what to do. Focus on the solution, not the problem." blah, blah, blah, blah. Now this wasn't done with a calm, soothing voice, but with a voice like sandpaper. I know where her daughter got that whine from. They just whined differently. It was painful and amusing at the same time. I received many a sympathy look. Ok, that's not the best part. This went on for fifteen minutes or so. Finally, one guy in the car couldn't stand it anymore and yelled, "Put a sock in it Dr. Phil." Oh, yes, it was sweet. Me and about half the car were rolling. The best part was that she just ignored us and kept on advising. Screech screech.
PUT A SOCK IN IT DR. PHIL!