Bloody Footprints on the 19th St BART

Um, yeah. Wow. This email arrived in our inbox last night. Anyone know anything more about this? Were you there? With a possible BART union strike looming, this doesn’t provide much comfort. And plus, bodily fluids are Muni’s realm, right?

100% saw fresh bloody footprints going down into the 19th St Bart in Oakland around 6:30pm Sunday. Told the lady at the window, she nodded like it wasn’t a big deal. Everyone around me saw them too, absolutely not fake! I was too scared to go down, ended up taking a cab back to the city!

Are the Red House Painters on the loose again?

No photos were attached, sadly.

Seen potential police situations on Bay Area transit? Let us (and the authorities) know …

Why I Will Never Ride the 27 Bryant Again (or at least for a while)

So I am boarding the 27 Bryant bus at Union Square heading home about 20 minutes ago. I should have learned my lesson after the incident of a crack head spit fight contest on that bus while my childhood friend was in town. But hey, that was an isolated incident, right?

Back to the story.  This homeless guy gets on the bus and sits down and starts eating some foul smelling Chinese food. I mean, this stuff smelled like it should have been refrigerated three days ago and discarded two days ago. So he is slopping this stuff down when an older lady asked the homeless man for a seat stating, ” The bus is full and your bag is in the seat next to you. Do you mind giving up the seat you bag is in?”

He states, ” Sure, if you want but I have killer lice that I can’t get rid of.”

Everyone on the bus began to simultaneously itch. The elder woman naturally decided to stand. As we travel he is slopping down this stuff and everyone is turning green. He finishes and then starts asking everyone on the bus if they have a bottle of water because he’s damn thirsty. Everyone is like, “No.”

The elder lady then says, “You know, I am sure you can get some water if you get off the bus.”

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Bullet hole on the J-Church

This arrived in the ol’ email bag this evening from Devin:

Muni incident

I’m not clear exactly what happened, but I was on the second of two outbound J trains when something went on aboard the first. Our driver tried to explain in his very limited English that we were “blocked” and there were “police.” SFPD was all over the first train, now largely free of passengers, and it had what looked (from a distance) like a bullet hole in one window. Didn’t have time to stay around to find out any more, but it fouled the J line for a while, and held up a 22 and a 7 in the traffic.

You, too, can be a citizen intrepid Muni reporter. Send us your stories and photos, newsworthy or not.

Twirlwind on the 21

From the Muni Diaries submissions inbox:

I used to ride the 5-Fulton every morning and afternoon to and from work. I’d hop on the bus either at Clayton or Masonic, hang on for dear life, and thirty minutes later, arrive (slightly windblown and disheveled) at either my fantastic place of employment or within a half-block of my abode. From June through early August, San Francisco Ballet’s summer school students take the 5 to and from USF. The good thing is these students are very well behaved. They keep an eye out for the elderly and parents with young children, move their large dance bags filled with pointe shoes, iPods, and breakfast (bagels and bananas), stay mostly quiet in the early mornings, and travel in small groups.

And I stress this last part because a few years ago, two new dance summer programs started housing their students at USF, and they traveled in packs. And by packs, I mean 30+ students at a time, on their cell phones constantly, and heaving their bags to and fro like boulders. These new kids made riding Muni during rush hour a living nightmare. And it’s not just the sheer mass of them now 60 dance students at a bus stop is just crazy in and of itself… But that combined with the attitude of the newbies is a lot to handle at 8AM.

So what’s an intelligent, city-minded girl to do? Switch bus lines, right? Oh, wrong. Two years ago, I switched to the 21-Hayes bus line. It’s an extra few blocks walk south from the Fulton line. It’s a quieter, more local bus line. Neighbors are friendly, most people are pleasant, and the drivers, if they see a regular hobbling in three inch heels and frantically waving her bus pass while dragging her gym bag behind her, will hold the bus and say, “It’s good to see you!” as she climbs aboard. Who can’t heart the 21-line? Well, right now, me!

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Public-Service Reminder: Always Practice Safe Sex

Unused (?) condom on the 47

Unused (?) condom on the 47

That’s right, folks. Mere inches from my brand-new haircut.

The 47 and 49 (both Van Ness lines, for those of you following along at home) really need to fight it out for the “And I thought I had seen it all…” crown. I personally go back and forth on the question of which I’d rather be on, though yesterday, I would have gladly eaten my lunch off a 49 (ok, ew, not really) considering what I was faced with on this 47.

First, a harmless man singing/yelling to the songs in his head and smelling 10 times worse than a portable toilet got on and sat in the back. Fine. It’s a freakin’ 47, after all. But that resulted in at least 10 people getting up and cramming themselves around the middle of the bus, since no one wanted to be back there with him. This results in a briefcase in my ass, an iPhone in my side, and a front-row seat to the freakishly large condom hanging by the back door.

Condom-leaver: next time, maybe don’t go with the magnums unless you’re absolutely sure you can fit in them, all right?

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