A short, angry discussion of taxes on the 30-Stockton
Photo by Flickr user happy bachelor
This delightful tale came to our inbox from Muni rider Andrew …
It wasn’t so fun at the time, now that I think of it, but it’s funny in retrospect.
My girlfriend and I are regular 30-Stockton riders, from North Point & Hyde to Sutter & Stockton. As you may know, the 30-Stockton is a risk-life-and-limb kind of line (especially around 8:30am) but we were lucky enough after work last week to find ourselves on a relatively empty outbound 30 where we could safely sit in the far-back facing-inward seats without worrying about cans shuffling or random bowel movements.
Boarding with us were two young gentlemen, one of fifteen years (or so he later said) and one in his mid-twenties. The younger sat in the set of facing-inward seats across the aisle, while the other sat close to the back door. And no sooner had we cleared the tunnel when the fifteen-year-old pulls a quarter out of his pocket and begins scrawling Heaven-knows-what into his plastic seat back.
My girlfriend, not one to take vandalism figuratively sitting down, shouts, “Hey, kid, cut that out!”
No response.
“Hey! STOP.”
Now he looks up. “Hey, I can do what I want.” (yes, this is the most stereotypical teenager phrase ever. I wanted to say, “really? So I can rip your ass a second hole because I WANT to?” But he was a minor, and should a police report get filed, I wanted to keep my mentions of his ass to a minimum.)
