Category: WTF: Weirdness on Muni

Poo-flinging at 16th St. Mission BART

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celloI was heading home Friday afternoon from a very fruitful jaunt to Thrift Town. I entered the 16th St. Mission BART station, and was delighted to discover a good-looking guy playing some kind of rock music solo on his cello. I’m a sucker for rock cello, so I leaned against a wall near him to listen.

That, unfortunately, is when I spotted the guy who had wedged himself between the trashcan and the support column in the breezeway. He was dressed in jeans and a rain poncho, and his hands were deep in his jeans. I don’t mean in his jeans pocket; I mean in his jeans.

Next to me, one of the emergency doors opened and a janitor stepped through with a mop and bucket full of soapy water.

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Category: Story Archive, WTF: Weirdness on Muni

(Update) Dinner break for all 49 operators?

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Update: KRON-4 has the latest on what may be the cause of the transit snarl, a suspicious package left at the Chinese Consulate near Japantown. Tara got a cab, and her cabbie was told to avoid Geary at all costs.

Original post: Yeah, it’s Friday. It’s felt like a longer week than normal for a lot of us.

But you knew the positivity couldn’t last, didn’t you?

So what, exactly, explains this, eh, Muni?

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Tara snapped that out at Van Ness and North Point a few minutes ago. She called to tell me about it, so I decided to check NextBus and see what it had to say. At my stop, 20th and Mission, the 49s heading north to North Point and Van Ness are scheduled as follows:

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And Tara just called back to say that her signs read: 14 minutes and 16 minutes, followed by an Arriving, with no bus in sight.

I’ve heard of FAIL, and I’ve heard of Muni FAIL, but this exceeds all expectations of fucked-upitude.

Perhaps Muni and NextBus should look into having the signs read “Buses are broken, look for alternatives now.”

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No, It (Snot)

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I boarded an articulated 14-Mission last week, and purely for shits and giggles, I chose to sit in the accordion section. One of the two-seaters was open, so I figured, why not?

Immediately across from me was a man of indeterminate age and mental ability. He could very well have been 32 and mentally retarded or 54 and blitzed off his rocker. One thing was for sure — he wasn’t like the rest of us.

But he was relatively clean. The warning sign for me was his incessant chewing of the cud, a systematic gyrating forward and backward of his lips and jaws.

After my initial curiosity and observation, I let my eyes wander. But they were drawn back in an instant when I noticed something emerging from the man’s nose. It didn’t quite look like snot or mucous (what’s the difference, anyway?), but more like spittle. It fell in a clean line over and down his top lip toward his mouth, stopping just about at that line where lips meet face.

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Sorry driver, them’s the rules

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So I boarded a 49-Van Ness the other evening, with Gida, my 12-pound Boston Terrier, stowed safely in her bag. I paid my double-fare, per SFMTA regulations, and kindly asked the driver for an extra transfer. One “for my dog,” I said.

“Huh,” he answered, incredulous and condescending.

“Can I get a transfer for my dog? She’s in this bag.” I said, giving him the benefit of the doubt.

“You don’t need that,” he said, as if I were new to this routine. Clearly, it was the other way around.

“Well, I’ve been asked several times for a transfer for her. I’m paying fare for her.”

At which point he begrudgingly handed me the transfer.

So, I refer this driver (and you, dog-owning Muni rider) to SFMTA’s rules concerning traveling with pets:

  • All other pets and non-service animals must be carried in small closed containers.
  • A fare equal to the owner’s must be paid for each non-service animal

Maybe, since I’m now unemployed, I can get some side work schooling Muni operators on their agency’s rules.

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