No. 2 on the 22
From the field, @franoero reports: “Someone pooped their pants on muni.” We’ve all been there … smelling the poop, I mean. Also, open a window already, YOU GUYS!
Category: WTF: Weirdness on Muni
Photo Diary: 9-San Bruno/Garbage Truck
@Smiffleblurf says, “Help! I’m on the 9 San Bruno and this lady blocked my seat with her 5ft tall wall of smelly trash. Phew!”
There really is no getting used to the smells aboard a Muni vehicle, is there?
Heater on Muni: Hell Yes or Hell No
Photo: CarbonNYC
Q. Who loves talking about (complaining about) the weather?
A. San Franciscans (myself included).
Remember when it started to get cold before it got warm again? In that not-so-distant past, I put up an important poll on our Muni Diaries Facebook Page:
Heater blasting on Muni is:
a) Like winning the transit lottery on these chilly days. I love it.
b) Like stewing in armpit stench. Hate hate hate.
c) Indifferent.
There were a couple votes for A. As rider Elizabeth said, “Heat is always a win as far as I’m concerned. Would rather smell some body odors than be cold.” A couple others, including rider Faern, said it depends on the type of bus. Faern cited the 22, which…OK, we can stop right there.
Still, B won by a pretty wide margin amid concerns over the B.O. hot-box. Oh, and the fact that it’s allegedly not that cold (what about the wind?! THE WIND!?) in San Francisco. I’ll be out completing my Christmas Story look, then.
Wouldn’t you know it, some recent tweets to @munidiaries side with our B voters. @missmarymary says, “Sweatiest commute ever. Dear muni, rain =/= cold,” while @janepfrank reports it reaching a million degrees on her 38-Geary.
So, which is it, A, B, or C? This is very important, you guys.
iThwart: Muni iPhone Theft Gone Wrong
Photo by Steve Rhodes
Last night, three 38Ls rode by, all of them packed to the gills, so I waited for the regular. When it came, it wasn’t crowded but there weren’t any free seats, so I stood near the accordion fold.
There were a few kids in the back door stairwell. They played with their phones and slurped tapioca drinks.I don’t know why I watched the kids – nothing else to occupy myself with, I guess.
Most of them got out at Scott, then a couple at Divisadero.
The bus stopped at Baker and the doors opened with their usual hydraulic whoosh.
Two kids got out, and then the last kid lunged at a woman sitting across from the door and ripped the iPhone out of her hands.
She pulled away from him and shouted something. And then I was at the door too, yelling, “HEY, HEY, HEY!” as loudly as I could, grabbing for the boy, grabbing for the bright white phone, the headphones, whatever I could get a hold of.
We scrabbled for the phone and got it back. The kid took off down the street, his hood covering his face, no chance to identify him if it ever came to that.
The bus driver didn’t pay any attention. She shut the doors and we were on our way.
The woman sat back down and wound her headphones around her phone before shoving it into her bag.
“Thanks,” she said.
No one else said a thing, and no one moved.
Wow. Watch out for your phones, purses, and other items on the bus, everybody. Not everyone’s lucky enough to ride the bus with Rachel. Got your own Muni story? We wanna hear it.
‘Sorry Baby, My Tomato’
Photo by Jason Tester
Beware of all fluids on the bus. As Kristee tells us:
Startled, I look up and there on the hand railing was a gnarled old fist tightly gripping a half-eaten ripe tomato. I loudly cleared my throat to express my irritation. In the smoothest Isaac Hayes voice, he calmly said, ‘Awww… sorry baby, my tomato,’ and casually stuffed it into the pocket of his jeans.
Head’s up?
Muni’s Number-One in My Book, Too
Photo: epugachev
I decided to walk to the Church St. Station to catch the Metro. When [I] arrived at Market/Church, I saw the J streetcar was struck in traffic at Safeway. I proceed to walk down to the subway and catch a train to Van Ness Station. When I arrived at Van Ness…I saw the J-Church that didn’t opened the door for me slowly arriving…so I made my way on the platform to the front and, as the J pulled up, I stood at the side of the driver’s cab and gave him the finger and let it linger there for about 10 seconds or so.
There’s a first time for everything: 30-plus years of ridership, and she says it’s the first time she flipped off a driver.
Well, we’ve all been there: riding the high (“You’re stuck at a red, thank jeebus! Open up, kind sir or madam!”) and the low (“Oh. Walking won’t be so bad, I guess). Literally giving Muni the middle finger could be a bit much, but getting stonewalled is obviously a shit picnic.
What say, Muni riders? Is finger warranted here?