My own personal N-Judah
Photo by Flickr user * Yaya
A few weeks ago I was out with some coworkers watching Monday Night Football at the Royal Exchange. I take CalTrain home these days, so I decided to leave about 8 PM so I could be sure to catch the 8:40 train. I walked over to the Embarcadero station and grabbed an inbound N-Judah, right on schedule. It was a two-car train but there was absolutely no one else in my car (and hence no visual cues that the end of the line had been reached… but I’m getting ahead of myself here).
Having had a couple beers and being completely immersed in playing Word Warp on my phone, I completely failed to notice that we’d passed the CalTrain stop — the last stop on the line. I glanced up from my phone, and upon seeing the Academy of Art University sign outside the window, I realized I’d made a pretty big mistake. I started having visions of being trapped on the train for hours with nothing but a few sticks of gum and my phone to amuse myself. Luckily, the steps came down and the doors opened and, momentarily relieved, I walked out into the rail yard under the I-280 entrance ramp. I looked back up the tracks and could see the inviting glow of the CalTrain station only a few blocks away so I decided I could just walk up the tracks, being very vigilant of course, and then get over to a sidewalk as soon as I could. Before I could do that, however, a MUNI driver walked around the back of the train I had just gotten off of and started fiddling with her keys in the door of another train next to it.
“Excuse me! I’m so sorry, but I wasn’t paying attention and I accidentally missed the last stop and I was wondering if it’s okay to just walk up the tracks back to the station?” I asked her, making gestures indicating what a complete idiot I felt like.
“What? No! You absolutely cannot walk on the tracks! That’s very dangerous,” she responded in a fairly harsh tone.
“Oh… well, how do I get out of here then?”
In a much softer tone, she replied, “Well, come here, I’ll just give you a ride in this train back to the station,” and opened the doors to the train.
Gratefully, I clambered into the train and sat in the seat closest to the driver’s cab as she slowly drove the train back to the 4th and King stop. As we got near the platform she said, “Now, I’m just going to let you off way back here so these people waiting on the platform don’t think I’m in service.” Thanking her and apologizing profusely, I walked off the train. I meant to ask her what her driver number was so I could send in a report to her supervisor extolling her excellent customer service, but I was so ecstatic at having my own personal MUNI train that I forgot.
So, to the short-haired, petite African-American N-Judah driver last Monday night, thanks a million! You’ve restored my faith in MUNI.
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A few months ago I took a very late (12:30-1:00 AM) L train from my place at the top of Taraval down to the 7-11 to grab some beer and munchies or something of that nature. Before I left I checked Nextmuni to make sure there would be a train returning inbound and I wouldn’t have to walk 20+ blocks uphill on a cold-ass night. When I get out I check my phone and sure enough the next “train” is the L-Owl which was coming in an hour! About 2 blocks into my walk uphill I hear a train coming, although it had “Not in Service” signs up I figured it was worth standing at the closest stop. Sure enough, the awesome Muni driver saw me waiting and took me all the way to the stop across the street from my house on my own personal train! These drivers are really great people and should be an example to all of the other lazy, anal, etc, etc Muni drivers in the system. Thank you!
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I used to always end up barely making it onto the last 17 leaving from West Portal — it stops at 11:30 on weekdays or something ridiculous. I could’ve always taken the M, but when it’s foggy and cold and nearly midnight, not to mention dark, if I saw that 17 as the M was pulling into West Portal station, I would take it. I would always be the last person left on the bus when I got off at my stop. I always figured it was because the SFSU kids were usually the only other people on the bus and they all got off near the dorms. One day though, the 17 had a new driver and about 10 minutes before the bus was to approach my stop, he stopped and said it was the end of the line.
I asked him why he was letting everyone off early, and he looked surprised. He then explained that the actual end of the line was at the Lake Merced entrance to ParkMerced because the bus had to go home eventually, and then asked if it was my first time taking the 17. And that was when I found out that the former driver had been going out of his way to drop me off at the stop right across the street from my apartment. I wish I had gotten the name or at least the number of the bus before I left the city — that kind man always, without fail, made sure I got to my stop, and I never realised he was going out of his way in time to thank him.
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