The 49 From Hell

Having put in a good 6-mile walk the day before, I decided I would take it easy today. Ha! What should have been a leisurely jaunt ended up being a 5-mile forced march.

I decided I would take a trip down memory lane and go down to Fisherman’s Wharf and the place where, in 1971, I worked as a teenager — Cost Plus Imports.

After checking the bus schedule, I decided to take the 22 to Mission and 16th and then catch a 49-Van Ness. The 49 runs every 10 minutes, so the wait would be short.

I got to 16th and Mission without incident.

I waited as 10 minutes went by and no 49 bus. Then 15 minutes, then 20. By now, an obviously impatient crowd was gathering and constantly looking down the street for the 49. One woman tried hailing a cab with no results and then got back up on the curb and started her wait again.

Elvis, seen above, seemed to be taunting me as I impatiently waited for the 49 to arrive.

While waiting I had the pleasure of being harangued by some crazy woman who accused me of being a cop and there was a constant parade of the unwashed masses going by the bus stop. I had never had the pleasure of waiting for a half hour at a Mission and 16th bus stop before. What fun!

Finally, the 49 came and it was already packed. We crammed our way into the smelly, stifling sardine can of humanity and all clung on for dear life as the bus lurched back into traffic. I was flanked by a woman holding her nose, a guy on a scooter in the handicapped slot, and some poor slob who was trying to manage a large heavy box on his shoulders while trying to hold on.

Meanwhile, some lunatic was hurling disparaging remarks punctuated with expletives at the bus driver while a woman next to him gave him crap about it. With each stop it got worse as more and more people jammed themselves onto the bus. By now it was like a sweat bath. Yummy.

Finally, the driver stopped taking more passengers (there was another 49 bus just a block behind us). At Geary Street half the bus emptied out and I got to sit down for the remaining four blocks of the ride. I got off at California with a great sigh of relief and relished the cool breeze. What a ride. Thank god I don’t have to endure this on regular basis like many of these hapless souls. Jeezus…

Excerpted from Epic Road Trips.

As bad as it gets, you’re never alone

this cracked me up...
Photo by Flickr user reminisced content

Am I the only one who’s ever wondered how often people sitting at the front of the bus stand up to offer their seat to a pregnant woman, only to realize she’s just overweight?

Had that thought while riding the 22 the other day. Then felt like a terrible person for having aforementioned thought.

What “evil” thoughts have you had on Muni lately? Comments, please.

$2 for ladder transport


This harrowing, probably-totally-against-the-rules tale arrived in our inbox the other day from Muni rider Christine:

Dear Muni Diaries,

The other day I learned you can’t bring a ladder on Muni.

I borrowed the ladder from a cross-town friend. The 22 bus pulls up, I put my bike on the front, and walk up the stairs with the ladder, and flash my Fast Pass. The driver tells me that I can’t bring the ladder on the bus. Dumbfounded, I stare at him. He tells me it’s “too dangerous.” What?!

Anticipating a very long walk with my bike AND a ladder, I came up with a solution by the time the next 22 pulled up…. 🙂

Camouflaged, my ladder rode happily back to my apartment.

– Christine

Seen contraband on the bus lately? Let us know:

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.

Testicles on the 22-Fillmore

Guy on the MUNI

From the Muni Diaries submission inbox:

New to the city, I knew nothing of how legendarily crazy the 22 was. In my first week here I found out:

One evening coming back from work, I was minding my own business on the 22 when an extremely overweight man, probably in his 50’s, got on board around 16th and Folsom. He was wearing flip flops, extremely tight hot pants and a scarf. That’s it. It was 50 degrees out.

So I’m thinking, ok, sit wherever you want, but just don’t sit in front of me. And so he does just that. And as he sits down, KERPLOP!, go his balls right of the hotpants. Of course, these pants were so undersized that adjusting didn’t even seem like an option under consideration. No, instead he ever so gracefully draped his scarf over his manhood and rode in peace.

Umm… yeah.

After that incident I bought my bike, vowing to avoid Muni like the plague. [Ed. note: noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!]

I have subsequently seen this man three times in the past year (though, thankfully, never on Muni). While he wasn’t wearing the hot pants, on each occasion he did have that sort-of, crazy disheveled look to him that has been burned into the recess of my memory.

If you see public genitalia, or anything else you find worthy of a Muni story, send it to us!

Photo by Flickr user grubbybastard

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