Letter No. 2 From a Muni Operator’s Wife

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guardians of the secret
Photo by Flickr user catbagan

This week sure has seen an onslaught against Muni operators. First, we had the mayor slamming the TWU for not agreeing to a set of budget-reducing concessions. Then, on Tuesday, the Board of Supervisors-commissioned audit of Muni found that excessive overtime and other employee behaviors are costing the agency (and thus by extension, you and me) millions of dollars. Though, it should be noted, not nearly enough to have closed a $28.8 million budget deficit.

Hell, even Tara had a post this week griping about a bus driver’s behavior.

So, what do things look like from the other side, from the driver’s seat, so to speak? This brings me to a letter we received a few weeks ago from a veteran Muni operator’s wife. This is the second letter we’ve received from the spouse of a Muni operator (read the first one here), wanting give their views on what it’s like to drive the bus here. We want to share with you some of the salient points of this most recent letter.

My husband has been working for the past 30 years with Muni. … Not many people who may sit behind a desk or may have easier jobs (and don’t have to worry about being assaulted like this bus driver, who was recently dragged off the bus and beaten by thugs)  can understand that being a Muni driver is more than just driving a bus. I watched my husband change over the years and the abuse he has received as well as many operators.

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Category: News

Debating the What and Where of Caltrain’s ‘Pimp Seat’

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short ride to someplace
Photo by Flickr user jovenjames

Over the past couple of weeks, we’ve seen a variety of tweets from Caltrain riders who expressed glee in nabbing the “pimp seat” on the train. This made us wonder: What is the pimp seat on the train? So we took to Twitter to find out.

Luckily, readers and riders were happy to help; consensus is that the pimp seat is on the upper level of an old-school car. It’s the double seat at the very back, giving riders room to stretch out and store their stuff, too.

There also appears to be a decoy pimp seat:

And thoughts on if it’s fair for shorties to grab this special spot:

Finally, @Ryan sent a picture of how awesome the pimp seat can be:

Are these guys right? Is this the best seat on the train?

Category: Caltrain

Freestylin’ 49, Part 2

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Muni Graveyard
Photo by Flickr user DaveFayram

I hate bagging on Muni drivers, whether it’s via the relative anonymity of the interwebs, to a friend at a party, or to their faces. It accomplishes nothing, as you’re still shit out of luck even after you’ve gotten worked up, right? But I had to say something this time.

Background: I spun this yarn a few weeks ago about a 49-Van Ness/Mission that inexplicably stopped at 14th Street, instead of continuing further south like it’s supposed to. Fine. Whatever. But during each of the three times this has happened to me, news of the offbeat route was announced with an inside voice that could shame the quietest church whispers. The 49 isn’t exactly quiet, either. All signs indicated that this was indeed a 49 that went the full route.

During my charmed third time on the 49-Stops at 14th Street, the bus pulls to a stop, and the same driver (at the same time of day) opens all the doors. He steps outside the bus, walks the length of one side, and notifies people with his inside voice, “last stop…last stop…last stop.”

As 50 people stare at one another confusedly, wondering if the driver simply bailed to the gas station for a snack, I stepped outside and asked if this was the last stop. I said he needs to actually announce this to people next time, because no one can hear him. That is why 50 people are still sitting on his bus.

His response: “The PA is broken, what do you want me to do?”

Hmm.

Yes, PAs break, especially on Muni, where a lot of things break all the time. And he’s apparently driving the same broke-ass bus every time, hence the regular lack of aurally acceptable announcements. Shitty. But come on; why did he go outside, first of all, instead of walking the length of the inside of the bus?

Consider this another plea for better communication between drivers and passengers.

If you’re curious, the bus turns east on 14th Street after slowly emptying its confused load of folks.

Category: diaries, WTF: Weirdness on Muni Tags: ,

Mystery Bus Stop Park

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Empty Bus Stop Park

Flickr user Rick Audet captured this quick guerrilla Muni stop parklet on Castro at Market street over the weekend, right outside the Twin Peaks bar. Here are some folks enjoying it:

Bus Stop Park

Rick said that he saw a photographer across the street set up to snap some photos of the pop-up bus stop park, then the parklet was quickly dismantled. More from Rick:

I don’t know how long it was set up, but it was there for the 15 minutes I spent waiting for the next 24 line. It appeared that the people who posed for the photographer across the street were the same people who drove up to this spot and dismantled the parklet, and then the photographer grabbed his gear, crossed the street and hopped into their vehicle too.

Anybody have any idea about what’s going on here? I’m strangely fascinated.

Category: diaries
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Ok, first, I must say that I risked my life in running across the 4th Avenue and Fulton intersection while dodging in front of and behind fast-moving cars, just to flag down a 5-Fulton. But that’s not what the story I’m retelling is really about. The bus stopped, and I made a point to say “Thank you” to the kind bus driver. I took my seat across from an overweight man in a wheelchair. A few minutes into my ride, he begins talking to no one in particular. Of course, no one responds, and I continued thinking there was NOTHING special about this behavior. Well, at about five minute mark, I begin to smell cigarette. Again, I thought nothing of this; that is, until I notice smoke protruding from the cigarette the man had just lit up.

My jaw dropped…and quickly I grabbed the collar of my ski jacket to cover up my nose and mouth. No one stopped him. Once all of us had realized what was going on, we reacted in different ways. One person decided to move towards the back of the bus: One of the two males sitting near me let out a jokingly-over-exaggerated cough. The other said “Oh, you got something in your throat?” We all laughed in a semi-secretive fashion. The man in the wheelchair continued to smoke his cigarette until he felt he was done. He dropped his still-lit cigarette onto the floor, failing to put it out when he made an attempt to move his right foot forward half an inch. There the cigarette lay: lit. I had an intense urge, as a girl who hates cigarettes with a passion, to stand up, put the thing out with my heels, and tell him that what he just did was extremely disrespectful, but didn’t. I can assure you that I’m a good citizen, but I’m one that knows better than to start something with an incoherent piece of crap.

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