This Will Make You Thankful for Muni: Highway 17 Express 06.19.09
Rider Michael’s trip away from San Francisco lead him to the Highway 17 Express and a ride that was much longer than a typical Muni ride, on a road that’s far from ideal compared with our city streets.
Friday, I decided to take the afternoon off and head over to Santa Cruz. I had already taken Caltrain to Santa Clara County for some morning business and figured I’d just catch the Highway 17 Express from downtown San Jose. The next bus that I could make left at 12:40 and so I booked a 2:30 appointment figuring I’d have plenty of time.
All was well until we neared Los Gatos and traffic came to a dead stop. A little past the Highway 9 offramp, an overhead sign warned of an accident before the summit with “lanes blocked.” Well, there are only two lanes, so if “lanes” are blocked, we are probably in trouble. We crept along until the driver announced that we would be turning around at Bear Creek so we could go back and take Highway 9.
Muni Mind Reader: Aisle-Seat Squatter 06.19.09
After a brief hiatus (we gave her the week off for Riders With Drinks), Tiffany Maleshefski, aka Muni Mind Reader, is back. This week, she peers inside the synapses of that odd creature who, often no matter how soon their stop is, refuses to scoot over to the window seat.
Yes, I understand it’s a little odd. You’d think that the opportunity to have a view, fresh air, and to have a place to lean your head when you’re sleepy would be an ideal situation for riding the bus. But, I just can’t do it, OK? I can’t sit in the seat near the window.
So regardless of how crowded it might get … no matter how much hate-beams you direct my way, I am NOT going to move over. I’m just not. EVER. Deal with it!
I realize it would be a perfectly easy enough task. I’d slide over so no one had to make a big scene fumbling over legs and knees and worrying about your bags sliding off your shoulder and hitting people in the face. But what you’re forgetting is what happens when you sit down and I am getting off at a stop that’s before yours. Then what do we do? Are you just going to get up and let me out?
Sure, I’ve seen this sort of consideration played out. But sometimes it just doesn’t happen. I sat near the window once. Just once. It was my stop, I had waited a little bit longer than usual to prepare my exit at the next stop. Before I knew it, the doors had opened and people were filing out and I was STILL at the window, collecting my bags, and the person in the aisle seat didn’t even realize what was happening. I nearly knocked them over as they stood up to let me through, and THEN … the BACK DOORS CLOSED! I had to yell, “Back door! Back door!” Eventually, the doors opened again and I was able to exit. But from that day forward, I swore, may God strike me dead, that I would NEVER stay from the aisle seat. Ever. God, I still have nightmares about that shit.
So, no matter what. Even if it’s a bus with standing-room only.
Angry Oompa Loompa 06.18.09
I don’t have time to keep up with my blog, but I love this one and wanted to share some of my previous stories with you all……….
So far you’ve heard 2 tales from the 38 & the 49 lines. This one comes from the 47 which takes me from my gym in the afternoons to the 38 Geary stop to go home. When I ride I usually put on my “muni face” and act like I’m not paying attention to anyone. However, I’m completely alert to all of the excitement going on around me.
This one particular day I was riding along and we came to the stop at Union St. I heard someone outside yelling “Fuck you!” continuously and looked out to see that he was in line to get on the bus. Oh excellent, a live one! The angry man (we shall call him Oompa) was a tall, slender guy in his mid to late 40s. He didn’t appear to be “dirty fingernail homeless” because he didn’t have that look. His clothes were clean and he had longer sort of Oompa Loompa hair and was clearly an angry drunk. I also noticed that he was wearing a wedding ring (irrelevant). So Oompa followed this younger Irish looking guy onto the bus (we shall call him Ginger). I think Oompa “took a hatin” to Ginger because he got right up in his face and continued to yell “Fuck You!” at him. Poor Ginger was trying to ignore him, but it was obvious that Oompa made him slightly nervous. Then Oompa starts whistling really badly into Ginger’s ear. In the middle of his tune he shouts to the entire bus that he’s “fucking crazy and not to fuck with him” and then goes back to whistling at Ginger. The bus was full but everyone was watching this fascinating Ginger-Oompa Show and secretly hoping that Ginger would pull a tazer out of his pocket or something.
Spontaneous Guitar Lessons on the 49 06.18.09
Photo by Flickr user nuzz
It was pretty interesting when I was taking the 49 home from the Mission the other day. There was this kid playing the Tenor. Then, this guy gets on the bus at 24th with a guitar, and soon notices the teenager playing the tenor. He looks, and the guy who is playing the tenor smiles. They chat, although there’s a language barrier between them, one who speaks little English (the one with the guitar) and the one who speaks no Spanish (the one who has the tenor).
They talk a little, and they play a mini duet by the time we get to 16th. Some lady eating a Fruit & Yogurt Parfait watches them play, as well as some other people on the bus.
The guy with the guitar gets off at Sutter with his other pal sitting opposite to him, opposite of the back door where the kid was playing. He gets off later. Don’t know where. Don’t care. But it’s interesting to see a teenager teaching someone to play and getting some fun out of it.
Send us your observations of poignancy on Muni, and anything else you feel like sharing.
Doth Thy Sonically Offend? 06.17.09
Does this look like a guy who’d be blaring his music on the 21-Hayes? If you think no, you’d be right. I was sitting three seats cattycorner to the man, and I didn’t even know he had earplugs on. But the guy across from him (picture not shown) quietly sidled up and asked him to turn down his tunes. Totally astounded, the pseudo non-offender replied “really?” and subsequently dialed down the volume.
One stop later, two very loud gentlemen got on the bus and talked in decibels loud enough to make a deaf man flinch. Did the sound-sensitive guy ask these two to turn down their pitch? Nope.
Which got me wondering: How do we physically perceive the difference between electronic noise and human noise? Both can be offensive and settling in their own ways.
Testicles on the 22-Fillmore 06.17.09
New to the city, I knew nothing of how legendarily crazy the 22 was. In my first week here I found out:
One evening coming back from work, I was minding my own business on the 22 when an extremely overweight man, probably in his 50’s, got on board around 16th and Folsom. He was wearing flip flops, extremely tight hot pants and a scarf. That’s it. It was 50 degrees out.
So I’m thinking, ok, sit wherever you want, but just don’t sit in front of me. And so he does just that. And as he sits down, KERPLOP!, go his balls right of the hotpants. Of course, these pants were so undersized that adjusting didn’t even seem like an option under consideration. No, instead he ever so gracefully draped his scarf over his manhood and rode in peace.
Umm… yeah.
After that incident I bought my bike, vowing to avoid Muni like the plague. [Ed. note: noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!]
I have subsequently seen this man three times in the past year (though, thankfully, never on Muni). While he wasn’t wearing the hot pants, on each occasion he did have that sort-of, crazy disheveled look to him that has been burned into the recess of my memory.
If you see public genitalia, or anything else you find worthy of a Muni story, send it to us!
Photo by Flickr user grubbybastard
About the Chicken Story (and Perils of Running a User-Generated Site) 06.16.09
I was standing on the side of the stage at the Make-Out Room last Friday at Riders with Drinks when our emcee Suzanne brought up four members of the audience to tell their own Muni story. As one of the audience members began to tell a story about an Asian (Chinese?) woman bringing a live chicken on the bus, I cringed. The story sounded uncomfortably familiar.
In the story, the bus driver tells the woman that live animals are not allowed on board. NonplussedUnaffected, she snaps the chicken’s neck and boards the bus.
Minutes later another writer in the audience approached us and echoed my discomfort: This story sounded remarkably like an urban legend she had heard before. When it was time to give away a prize to the best storyteller, the audience chanted, “Chicken! Chicken!” I felt even more uncomfortable. In the chaos of running an event, we did not have a chance to intervene on stage, but the “chicken story” stayed in my mind all weekend.
A little internet search showed that various forms of the “chicken story” has been circulating the city for a few years. But if an audience member said that she witnessed the story first-hand, isn’t that the end of story?
Not for us.
Hot Operator Voice 06.16.09
Photo by Flickr user drain
I always cringe if I end up on the N-Judah headed toward Caltrain with the conductor who likes to announce the 2nd and King stop as: “home to the house that Barry built.” I curse him for making me think about Barry Bonds, drugs, and the corporate sports machine so early in the morning.
There are many Muni voices we love and hate to recognize. Who hasn’t heard the announcer who draws out the broken elevator messages into three-minute pronouncements more fitting for a get-you-in-the-mood Motown record? Then there’s that BART conductor who takes on the role of airport commissary when en route to SFO, and city ambassador when at Powell. He has a zingy, upbeat, professional voice that is not wholly unpleasant.
Another Douche on the M-Train 06.15.09
Muni rider William has some choice words for “another douche on the M-train.” He sent us this story:
So, short and simple: I’m sitting on the M-train minding my own business when all of a sudden I hear a guy shout out at me, “Stare somewhere else, dude.”
At the time I had been looking toward his side of the train but just daydreaming and gazing around. What do you expect people to do when they are on the bus? Sure I could read a paper, but it’s 6:30 a.m. and I get my paper when I get to work. Even if I had headphones like most people do, they are still typically facing upward and looking around. Furthermore, you were just sitting there gazing forward as well–therefore, you were likely inadvertently staring at someone else on the train.
Technically you were staring at me if you even happened to be looking at me supposedly staring at you. Quite frankly you were nothing that would even be worthwhile to look at. If I wanted to be staring at someone I would definitely be staring at more attractive people on the train, and just considering I am a straight male I would have been looking at an attractive female if I was actually gonna stare at someone. Don’t flatter yourself. If you can’t stand people looking around on public transportation I have some advice for you — get off!
Had a strange or funny incident on Muni or BART lately? Tell your story here.
Photo by Flickr user *christopher*
Mohawk Town 06.15.09
Last night I took the K to West Portal. I don’t know when she got on the train because I was busy playing with the new apps on my blackberry, but sometime between Forest Hill and West Portal I looked up and saw her. She looked like a beautiful, swirly and colorful cartoon. She had stars and swirly things painted on her face. She had fake flowers tucked into her mohawk. I’m so glad I put down my crackberry and enjoyed the ride.
Saw something intriging on the bus? Email us at muni.diaries.sf@gmail.com.
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