So I'm in San Francisco for business - I'm learning a lot, I'm meeting cool people and I'm eating some pretty awesome food.
I found a Beard Papa and man, I'm glad I don't live too close to the one in Boston. Cause I'd have to buy bigger pants.
Yesterday I took the BART to visit my podcast pals from
Cinema Diabolica. I walked down the stairs into a pretty gleaming white station.
It was spacious and well-lit and smelled very nice. I noticed a woman mopping in a corner and she mentioned to a colleague that the floor smelled nice because the floor cleaner was scented with pineapple.
I have never found pineapple scents on the T. If you're lucky all you smell is old garlic.
Anyway, as I waited in the station I noticed that people queued up in line to get on the train. Forming a quiet, orderly line? What? I was confused.
Then I was stunned when I got on the train - it has carpeting. And plush, upholstered seats. And none of it was hideously discolored or smelly. Astonishing!
As best as I can tell, I think the T is made from concrete and urine. Sure, the BART is much more expensive than the T. I think I spent about $7 to get to and from my destination. The T costs under $2.00 to ride anywhere in the greater Boston area.
I mentioned the incredible cleanliness to my friend and then told her the price. She suggested she'd accept the vomit and stench of the T if she didn't have to pay $7 for a round-trip.
The sad part is that I think we'll eventually have to pay $7 for a round-trip and still be stuck with the stink.
Labels: 2008, San Francisco, the T
By: Alyssa | Wednesday, April 23, 2008 at Wednesday, April 23, 2008 | | 
Usually I read on the T, so I can block out a lot of the weirdness going on around me.
Yesterday I was listening to some podcasts and trying not to freak people out by laughing to myself. Ahem.
So I lifted my head and looked around a little more than usual.
All things considered, it was a pretty normal day. However, I spotted a woman leaning against the train doors. She almost fell out of the car at Boylston St. when the doors opened. She looked totally shocked. I guess it was her first time on the train.
When I came home last night I could hear something kind of loud and noisy coming from the Red Line at Park Street. The platform was pretty crowded, so at first I thought it was the hum of the crowd. But as I made my way down the stairs I could hear some dude singing.
Most days of the week somebody is singing - busking if you will. Sometimes they're good, sometimes they're not. On this day it was an older man dressed in spats and a large orange hat. He was singing along with some kind of music - the audio quality was such that it was a little like listening to a German Expressionist painting. All jangly and sharp edges.
People stood around him and openly gaped. You don't usually see that from the regular crowd. We're cool customers and laugh in the face of "schedule adjustments" and "medical emergencies" or any other oddities we might encounter on the train.
Maybe it was the orange. This could support my
overall orange theory. I hope it didn't make anyone feel stabby.
Labels: 2007, Boston, the T, weird stuff
By: Alyssa | Tuesday, March 20, 2007 at Tuesday, March 20, 2007 | |
About a month ago I was
complaining about the T (the local subway system – well, it’s sometimes above ground). My issues are mostly with the Green line, although the Red line has been pretty sketchy lately.
I take a train to another train when the weather is bad or extremely cold. My colleague suggested I switch from the Red line to the Orange line instead of taking the
Green line.
I never got around to switching up my schedule. Then someone was stabbed on the orange line a few weeks ago. An isolated incident, I’m sure. Then
another stabbing happened earlier this week.
My colleague regularly rides the orange line, so I asked her about it.
Me: Why is the Orange line so stabby?
Coll: It’s complicated. I think there are societal and economic factors at play.
Me: That’s a thinking person’s answer.
Coll: Yeah.
Me: I think it’s because the line is specifically orange.
Coll: What?
Me: Orange is a very stimulating color. I read about it in a color theory book before I painted the house.
Coll: I see.
Me: Orange is a good color for getting the blood flowing and the creative juices flowing, but it can sometimes over stimulate people. I guess that might make you want to stab someone.
Coll: But there isn’t really a lot of orange on the train.
Me: Your theory is probably better.
Coll: Your theory is definitely odder.
Me: You can count on me.
Labels: 2007, Boston, the T, weird stuff
By: Alyssa | Friday, March 09, 2007 at Friday, March 09, 2007 | |
Yesterday I outlined how I offended the fine people of
Watertown, Massachusetts.
And today I shall share with you my latest offenses. Bear with me; I don't want to ruin the punchline....
I was headed home from work - a little frustrated by our buggy new subway passes - when I ran down the stairs to the red line platform just in time to see the doors close and the train pull away.
It is entirely possible I muttered some very naughty words to myself.
I walked down the platform in a huff. I had an
eye doctor appointment (my last!) and didn't want to be late. I grumbled a bit to myself and pulled out the novel I'm reading,
Island of the Sequined Love Nun by Christopher Moore.
A few moments later another train pulled up and I hopped aboard. I moved towards the center of the car and positioned myself near a pole. My bright pink book was propped open and I did a quick survey of the car. I looked to my right and noticed three little women - nuns.
I looked at the nuns. The nuns looked at me. Then they looked at my book. Then they looked at me. I smiled. They didn't.
I put the book away - a little spooked and very thankful that I wasn't reading one of
Moore's other books like
Practical Demonkeeping.
Can I conjure up things from novels? I realize nuns aren't fictional creatures like unicorns. It is just that I very rarely, if ever, encounter nuns out in the world.
Thank God I wasn't reading
Frankenstein or something.
Labels: 2007, books, Boston, the T, weird stuff
By: Alyssa | Tuesday, January 02, 2007 at Tuesday, January 02, 2007 | |
I think this either sounds like a joke or some kind of dirty viral internet video. Anyway, it’s what I encountered yesterday on the T.
I hopped on the
Red line at Park St. and ran into a colleague. We chatted for a bit about where we live, what we paid for our first apartment in Boston and about real estate – I just bought, she’s thinking about buying. It’s pretty boring fare (probably to everyone but us).
The train was pretty light on passengers (which was surprising at 5:45 PM) but we opted to stand. There was a guy near us – seated – wearing a cowboy hat. He smelled familiar – stale beer and drunk. Like he’d been drinking for a while.
He inserted himself into our conversation, politely – he even said, “Excuse me, but ….,” before sharing his impossibly cheap apartment in Harvard Square story. “But that was about 12 years ago,” he added.
My colleague hopped off the train around Central and I continued to ride along with the drunk guy. The woman near me was clearly horrified that the drunk guy kept talking to me. I was a little annoyed – I
wanted to keep reading. But whatever, he seemed harmless.
Then he revealed a secret.
“There’s a garden gnome named Gary down in that tunnel,” he said pointing out the window behind him to the dark tunnel speeding by. “You’ll see it near where the old platform was when we get closer to Harvard Square.”
As we passed the area – he pointed excitedly. I leaned closer to the window to take a peek but didn’t see anything except an orange cone.
“Did you see it?” he asked.
“No,” I admitted. “He must be hiding.”
The drunk guy pondered this as he gathered his stuff to get off the train at Harvard Square, “I don’t think Gary is dangerous, but he is certainly wily.”
And with that, the drunk guy stumbled away.
Labels: 2006, Boston, the T, weird stuff
By: Alyssa | Thursday, March 30, 2006 at Thursday, March 30, 2006 | |
The iPod Tryptic
There are new iPod ads at Park St. and
they've very quickly had new messages applied to them. So I guess there's a pretty anti-consumer or maybe just anti-advertiser strain of marker wielder on the Red Line. But who would carry around black permanent markers with chisel tips? Puzzling.
Labels: 2006, the T
By: Alyssa | Thursday, March 09, 2006 at Thursday, March 09, 2006 | |
How to tell it is School Vacation WeekIn this part of the world, I’d call it the greater Boston metro area, kids get a week off from school in February. It isn’t Spring Break; that comes later.
But it is School Vacation week – hence the catchy title of my entry.
We did not get this time off in Indiana, so I don’t know what the deal is with it. I do know that I like when it happens because my morning commute for the week is very, very easy. My evening commute is another story.
The week sneaks up on me because I don’t have kids and am not directly affected by when school is opened or closed. Usually by the Wednesday of school vacation week I start having a series of thoughts that lead me to deduce that school vacation week is upon us again.
Monday: Wow, it’s pretty dead today. I wonder if this is all related to President’s Day?
Tuesday: Why are there so many strollers on the T at rush hour? That’s just weird.
Wednesday: Why are so many people asking me for directions?
Just then a woman and her husband rush up to me.
“Is this Copley Square?” she asks.
“Yes,” I reply.
“And that’s Trinity Church?” she asks.
“Yep,” I answer pointing to the giant building.
“Thanks!” her husband throws over his shoulder as they rush towards the church.
Since I have successfully answered the questions of one tourist, others descend upon me.
“How do I get to Davis?”
“Where do I catch the E train?”
“Do you know where the nearest ATM is?”
I try to answer all the questions in a friendly but brisk manner. I’ve got places to go (home) and stuff to do (feed myself before I die of starvation).
I fight my way into the T station past a throng of parents and small children milling about in front of the turnstiles. I loudly say “Excuse me,” as I push through the crowd and wait for a train. I make my usual switch to the red line and wait to get on a very crowded train. I’m getting poked in the back and someone near me smells like day old burrito. I breathe through my mouth and keep reading.
Children and parents openly gawk as I turn the page. I guess the book with a drag queen on the cover is off-putting on School Vacation week. Hey, at least it wasn't
Satanic Verses. That's still on my "to be read" pile.
Labels: 2006, the T
By: Alyssa | Thursday, February 23, 2006 at Thursday, February 23, 2006 | |
We survived the Winter-caneApparently that’s what the weather folks on TV are calling it – a winter storm with hurricane force winds. Sometime after 2 PM things went all The Day After Tomorrow.
My office closed early – which I thought was odd until I walked by an exterior window and did a double-take. I couldn’t see anything. There was a total white-out.
I called Deeps; he was going to give a colleague a ride home so he’d be leaving a bit later. I debated on what to do. Then I heard this loud crash. Thunder. Followed by bright flashes of light. Lightning. We had Thundersnow.
So I figured I should beat a hasty retreat. But I knew it would be bad outside. It was. I didn’t take any pictures – I forgot my camera. But I doubt it would have registered much. I called Deeps to leave him a voicemail message. It was like a scene from the apocalypse. We were in total white-out conditions – you couldn’t see more than eight feet ahead. Then the wind blew so hard the snow was mixing with rain and stinging your face and made it even harder to see or breathe.
I tried to get on the Green Line but it was a total disaster – so I decided to take my chances with the Red Line. Of course that meant hiking about a mile. I did it in about 30 minutes. At one point I got somewhat disoriented in the Boston Common. I couldn’t figure out if I was on the right path. I couldn’t hear anything except thunder, wind and sirens. I was alone in the park and the tracks I’d been following were fading fast.
Then a runner passed by. God bless the psycho runner. That’s dedication. Of course, he probably thought I was a crazy pedestrian. I am.
Eventually I made it to Park Street and shook of a lot of snow. My head was wet, my gloves were sopping but I made it. Then I lucked out on the train and found a seat after the Porter Square stop. When we got the Alewife I had some suspicions about what the last two miles of my commute would mean for me. I decided to fortify with some coffee and a muffin. Good thing I did.
I climbed up to the bus terminal where I found a mob of anxious commuters. There were no busses in sight. And you could see – which was an improvement. The thundersnow was over and the snow had stopped. I sat for a few minutes and read. I heard the grumbling crowd. It sounded like they’d been waiting for well over an hour without any luck.
AT one point a bus drove by and people tried to mob it. But the bus simply drove away without taking on passengers. The grumbling intensified and I realized that if I started walking the last two miles now – I had a rough chance of being home by 5 PM. So I followed a group of commuters who’d reached the same conclusion a few minutes earlier. They left a decent trail – I followed the Minuteman bike path until I hit Spy Pond. My legs ached – walking in 8 inches of snow for that far was rough. I just kept moving and hoped I didn’t wipe out.
I ended up climbing out on a side street that had been partially plowed. And walked part of the way in the street when the sidewalks weren’t clear. Then I walked on the sidewalks anyway after watching cars skid by. I figured I’d take my chances in deep snow than in deep … something else.
I got home a few minutes after 5 PM. It took 2 hours and 15 minutes for me to get home. I walked three of the seven miles that separate my office from my home. And I’ll be honest, it still wasn’t the worst commute I’ve had out here.
Labels: the T
By: Alyssa | Friday, December 09, 2005 at Friday, December 09, 2005 | |
