Nobody wants to be that person holding the door open and breaking Muni, alarm blaring, multiple pairs of eyes throwing daggers, so this is generally good advice.
But rider Dave on the Muni Diaries Facebook page noticed that something might be lost in translation on this sign. The Chinese translation of “Please do not hold the doors” actually reads, “Please do not support or help the doors.”
(Well, the door might need a little help in the form of riders collectively yelling “Step down!”)
Being Chinese-speaking myself, I think the word “扶” can also mean “to physically hold.” Could the translation also be interpreted as, “Please do not lean on the doors”?
Chinese-speaking riders, help us out: what should the sign really say?
Saw something noteworthy on your ride? Your fellow riders want to know! Add your commute story to Muni Diaries by tagging us on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram; or you can email us at email@example.com.
Every day is a new opportunity to find something left on Muni that’s truly weird, possibly gross, and definitely appealing to our inner 13-year-old humor. There’s that bowl of milk that someone abandoned on the bus, then there’s the friendly leopard left waiting at the Muni stop. Today’s find is of an intimate sort. On Twitter, rider Kiley (@kilodeer) hipped the SFMTA to this item left at the bus stop:
Hey @sfmta_muni@SF311, you might want to come collect the wiggling dildo someone left at Filmore and Jackson, outbound on the 22-Filmore. (Stop 14623) This is the most San Francisco thing ever. Also, I’m sorry. @munidiaries
Kiley tells the SFMTA that they should be glad she only posted a photo of this dildo and not the video. Well, here at Muni Diaries headquarters, we are not one to let opportunities pass us by! Kiley kindly sent us the actual video of said wiggling dildo. Behold and also NSFW and whatnot:
We don’t have to look far to remember why we live here whenever the rent, downtown traffic, and constant fog get us down. In the last year, your stories and photos have been daily reminders of the quirky, delightful, and lovable San Francisco that we know so well. We sifted through all of your submissions this year to find some of our favorite moments in the city, as seen on and off Muni.
1. We found one sure way to avoid awkward holiday conversation, see above via @cityslickerSF
2. San Franciscans banded together during the two weeks of wild fire where N-95 masks became de rigueur.
Ok, one more. Bonus round: “FRONT DOOR! FRONT DOOR!”
Thanks to everyone who submitted an entry to our collective diary this year! We can’t do this without you, and we’ve been collecting your Muni and San Francisco stories for nearly a decade. If you have a story that makes you say, “this is what San Francisco is all about,” we want to know! Submit your stories and photos by tagging us @munidiaries on Instagram, Twitter, Facebook, or email us at firstname.lastname@example.org.
You can support the city’s original online transit journal by subscribing to our podcast or helping us on Patreon or our Etsy store where you can find Fast Pass goodies on sale right now.
A tip via reader Marcin W., Jannina Uribe tweeted this ingenious solution to a broken stop request from a bus in Mexico. She reports that the written message translates to: “Bell out of order. Squeeze the chicken.”
Insert any number of chicken/Muni/and choke-the-chicken jokes here.
Wait, what? Rider Loren Kraut got this “Jan 1, 1970” time-stamped ticket from one of the new fare boxes just the other day, and we’re paging Marty McFly for an explanation.
Yes, OK, we know it’s the UNIX Epoch (hi, nerds!), but we prefer to think this is a subtle reminder of when you could ride Muni for $0.25 while wearing your polyester bellbottoms.
If you’re curious about what the proof of payment really looked like in 1970, though, we’ve got you covered. If you were really traveling in 1970, you’d get a transfer that looks like the left-most ticket here:
The transfer used in the early 1970s was the Form 2A. This transfer was used from 1950 to about 1972, and should be familiar to many longtime San Franciscans.
…like the actual nail clipping implement, not the offender themselves.
We’ve received nail clipper shaming galore, but this may be a first. Maybe they were so busy sweeping up their own clippings, they forgot the tool used for the job. Or maybe, in a flash of much welcome self-awareness, they dismissed the idea of public nail clipping as quickly as it formed, becoming so distracted they forgot the nail clipper itself.
PSA, clipping your nails on public still isn’t OK, y’all.