Please don’t lie to me, Muni
Oh, 45-Union, why do you lie to me?
You tell me you’ll be there for me. In just 2 minutes, you’ll magically appear to take me home. But then 3, 4, even 5 minutes go by and you’re nowhere in sight.
Where could you be? Cavorting in Chinatown? Stuck South of Market? You have a lot of nerve to leave me hanging like this.
OK. Now it’s been 10 minutes. If you had just been honest with me, I could have jumped on the 30. I could have walked those 10 minutes and hopped on the 1-California. I could be halfway home by now….if only I had known.
And yet you insist on lying. Lying like a rug. We’re talking an orange shag rug leftover from a 1970s key party.
I know you’ll get here eventually. You always do. Even if it’s too late to get me to yoga on time. Even if I have to shimmy my way in the back door because you’re packed to the gills.
I can’t break up with you, Muni. All I ask for is a little honesty.
- Laura E.
Sigh. I’ve dreamed of breaking up with Muni for good, and I just keep running back to the most abusive relationship I’ve ever had.
Laura, we must be having the same relationship with a slightly different kinda twist - the 47-Van Ness has been jerking me around just the same. You know what I’m talking about, the hot-cold now-I’m-here-for-you and now-I’ve-forgotten-about you types. And yes we just go back for more because…ok, it’s cheap!