Boom Box vs The New Yorker, From Our Story Tent 06.14.10
Ahem, is this thing on?
“A brown liquid was found on Muni line 46 today. Passengers were throwing up when the discovery was made, making this the most amazing bus line in the city today.”
Don’t worry, it’s not true. This is just one of the Muni Mab Libs submitted at the Muni Diaries Story Tent at Outbound, hosted by us and Secession Art and Design on Friday night. Secession Art and Design curated an amazing show, featuring the work of Nate1, Eddie, Duerone, and a collection of wearable art. At our Muni Diaries Story Tent just outside of Secession, we heard some hilarious Muni stories like the one that Mary told in the video above, about a war between a boom box and The New Yorker.
We also collected your brilliant Muni Mad-Libs:
“Riding Muni is better than a night on the cornfields with numerous lucky ladies.” – David.
“Riding Muni is like dating a dude who is clueless about your needs and full of surprises, except it’s never the pleasant kind.” – Fabulous R.
“Riding Muni is better than taking a hot jello bath with Jesse Helms on a summer day in North Carolina on mescaline.” – Felix.
Yow!
If you haven’t made it to Secession yet, be sure to check out Nate1′s paintings featuring BART and Muni, Eddie’s large-scale work that you probably recognize from the streets, and Duerone’s handpainted boxcars. Secession also hosts designers of wearable art, including work from Colleen Mauer, Heather Robinson, and Rachel Znerold.
We’ll be airing more of the stories we collected Friday night this week, and watch our Twitter feed for more Muni Mad Libs submissions from the evening.
A misfired projectile in Tiffany’s airspace 05.07.10
Photo by christine.ricks
Jesse told a two-minute version of this story at Muni Diaries Live! two Fridays ago, and there was no question that he was the crowd favorite of the evening. People couldn’t get enough of Jesse so we asked him to write his story in full here for you.
I was heading home from work, a task that takes about 45 minutes and one transfer. In the afternoons, I prefer to take the 1-California, as it has consistently proven to be the gentler, cleaner, more Asian cousin of the consistently troubling 38-Geary. Little did I know that this was to be no ordinary ride home. This was a bus ride that, even years later, is still burned into the memory portions of my brain (those are somewhere in the upper middle, right?). When dealing with Muni, I suppose one should always expect the unexpected.
As I approached the bus shelter, I heard a loud, angry voice taking someone to task for being a “Lazy-Assed Cracker.” Soon it was revealed that the man attached to the voice was a tall fellow who would sporadically refer to himself in the third person. His name was Leroy. Leroy seemed to be pushing 60, though I suppose he could have been younger. One thing was for sure; Leroy was not new to the streets. He was crusty in a way that is almost special. It seemed that Leroy had maintained a long and devout abstinence to water, since Y2K was a genuine threat. Leroy’s hands were swollen, coated in years and layers of sedimentary funky junk and it dawned on me that Leroy’s claws have quite possibly touched many of the same public surfaces that mine have over the years (I resolved at once to stop biting my nails). His T-shirt advertised the 1984 Los Angeles Summer Olympics and was so timeworn that maintaining its structure must have been accomplished through ancient magic long since forgotten.
‘That One Time on the N-Judah’ 04.27.10
Photo by Flickr user George
The following represents one of the longest Muni diaries we’ve received to date. Incidentally, it comes on the heels of our learning about longform.org, a place for stories that “are too long and too interesting to be read on a web browser.” Someone please submit this one for us, eh? Meanwhile, pour yourself a cup of tea or hot cocoa, and settle in for Davy’s harrowing tale.
Sometimes, well, this is just a warning…this is like the worst of it though, and I was on Muni for fuck’s sake, stuck on the damn train, um, we were coming out of the tunnel, you know, on the N, going through that long tunnel heading west, just before the Cole and Carl stop where the Burgermeister is…um, let me backtrack some here…so, I was at the Giants game, down at AT&T Park, or whatever it was called at the time…they keep changing the name of it, like some girl who’s been married a lot…
Anyway, this is about 5 or 6 years ago now…and I’d been having some stomach trouble already…I think I’d had the shits pretty bad for a few days…a burrito with bad beans or something, but I thought it had cleared up and it was a nice sunny day, kind of like an oil painting, the colors bright and running all over the damn place…nice, it was fucking nice out…a beautiful day for a ballgame, let’s play two, say hey, and all that kind of stuff…so I went to the game, ate a hotdog during the seventh-inning stretch, and the Giants won…pretty okay way to spend the day…of course this was when you could still go and watch the Giants play and have a good time…you can’t watch the Giants anymore without getting morbidly depressed…
It’s Always Happy Hour Somewhere 03.16.10
Photo by Flickr user What What
Ed. Note: It’s been a while since we’ve gotten a gross story, huh? Here’s one from rider Alison. Don’t say we didn’t warn you!
Living in the Outer Richmond without a car leaves few options for across town travel. If I had ample time on my hands and wasn’t cripplingly lazy, I would walk or bike.
Alas, I ride the 5 Fulton. While other lines in my neighborhood are generally quieter (1 California) or faster (38 and 38Ltd Geary), the 5 Fulton is one block from my house (did I mention I’m lazy?).
Being a relatively seasoned Muni-rider, I’ve found that most Muni lines traverse at least one or two shady neighborhoods and the 5 is no different. From my house to downtown, the bus passes through Western Addition and the section of Market that the city forgot to gentrify.
Last week, on a perfunctory afternoon ride downtown, a man in his early 30′s boarded the bus in Western Addition. When people sit down across from me on any bus, I typically give them the once over and resume whatever activity I’m engaging in to expedite the ride. This particular gentleman caught my attention because, well, he was a midget. No, not a dwarf (characterized by their shortened limbs); a midget. And he was drunk.
He alternated giggling and incoherent babbling with surreptitious swigs of sake from a crinkled brown bag. But his giggles soon turned to looks of pain and before I could determine just how drunk he was, he threw up. Not a projectile vomit but more of a slow, awkward dribble that made its way down his sweater, leaving a unpleasantly colored trail. And, where many individuals who have just thrown up on themselves would cease and desist, he just kept on drinking as if nothing were amiss.
Thankfully he didn’t ride for too long and actually managed to disembark the bus without leaving a mess in his wake. Although my visceral reaction was overwhelming disgust, my heart went out to this small dude who, for the rest of the day, would be wearing his own barf.
14-Mission birth control? 02.17.10
Photo by /\/\ichael Patric|{
Yesterday, we read a little piece on SFGate about the worst places in the Bay Area to go into labor. Unsurprisingly, DMV beat all contenders as the least appealing place to bring a new life into the world (we’re pretty sure DMV might clean up at the Least Desirable Awards Show, but that’s another story).
Perhaps also to no real alarm, Muni made the list. No. 2, in fact. And not just any bus or Metro line. No, special disdain is reserved for the 14-Mission like it is for no other line in town. Does that have anything to do with the fact that there’s more (reported) crime on the 14-Mission than any other? Not that we’re scratching our heads at this result.
But it does make us wonder: What are some other dubious Muni awards you can think of? Worst line to make out on. Worst line to take to a fancy date. Worst line to use for grocery shopping. Share your ideas in the comments, please.
A plastic bag full of rotten fish guts 01.27.10
Photo by post author, Cameo
About a year and a half ago I was on my way to a party and I noticed a really rank smell. I ignored it because some people on Muni just reek. Soon afterward, the train got very full, and while I was sitting, I had people crammed up next to me and hovering over me. I then began to feel the drip. I could feel something cold and oozing slipping down my legs, down my neck, and into my armpit. At first I thought it was water from the train ceiling just dripping down, but when I spelled the stench of rotten fish, I knew it was something much, much worse.
I looked down, and I saw blood spattered on the ground, and when I looked up, I was staring into a bag of cut-up rotten fish guts. The little old lady holding the bag stared at me as the bag dripped on me, until I gave her the face of death. Her friend realized I was about to utterly destroy her friend with the bag of fish guts, and so she pulled her off at the next stop.
Who carries a leaky bag of fish guts on Muni!?
Wonder Bread Under My Seat 11.10.09
Photo by Flickr user Brian_Brooks
This photo, submitted to the Muni Photos Flickr pool by Brian Brooks, just suspended my evening appetite at least a few hours. How about you? Still hungry for lunch?
Seen any delectable delights on your commute? Send photos and stories to Muni Diaries.
Extreme observation of the ‘no eating on Muni’ rule 10.27.09
Muni rider Rose sends us this gruesome photo and description. Help her solve the mystery.
This greeted us last week at the Park Presidio-Geary stop for the 28. No, not a fake Halloween set, a real one with remnants of breakfast. What could be the story behind this?
Please don’t do that 10.26.09
I take the 31 towards Fillmore after I leave work. Normally, I walk the mile home but today I was particularly tired and wanted a quick trip. It was a quick ride but disgusting to say the least.
The bus was packed, smelled like like stale body odor and Cheetos, and of course, there had to be this guy. Standing up, holding on, trying not to breathe the stench in too much, I notice a man sitting down flailing about. He was shirtless with shorts and wearing sneakers with no socks. He had scabs all over his upper body and was talking to himself.
Now, I know I was not the only person praying to get the hell off that bus asap. Then, he stood up and started violently picking his nose. I mean really sticking his fingers up there. I could have barfed right then.
Soon after he took the same finger and proceeded to pick some food out of his teeth. I mean, he was getting waaay back there. THEN, to top it off, he started gagging and I truly believe he was doing this on purpose. I’ve been in the city for 5 months and this ride home was the worst I’ve experienced so far. Let me tell you, 5 minutes on the bus with someone like that will haunt you forever.
T-Whiz: Pee on the T 09.09.09
Photo by Flickr user MarkPritchard
This tweetable diary arrived in our inbox last week:
Just had a guy take a leak next to me on the T @ 4th and King. He got off at the next stop. Must have been urgent.
Everyone knows in this town, when you gotta go, you gotta go.
Ride Muni like a boss. Our Fast Pass Clipper card holders and Muni Diaries T-shirts are on sale 
