Feb. 16th, 2007

ceebeegee: (I can't take it any more!)
Man, the commute this week has been brutal. On numerous occasions I've had to wait 5-10 minutes for a rush hour train, on several different lines. Tuesday it was bad enough that I wrote the MTA an email, complaining that after waiting 10 minutes for a train, the first one that came was so crowded I couldn't get on. When I finally was able to, the train ran so slowly I transferred at 59th St. to try to pick up a B or D to Rockefeller Pl (to make up the lost time--I usually stay on the 1 'til 50th St. and just walk the extra block-and-a-half). The B that I caught WAITED, in the station, for 5 minutes--no announcements, no nothing. I was so angry when I got to work I sent this perfectly spelled, PISSED, email to them. What's frustrating is that they try to force you to register for their site in order to send an email--they make you enter a name and an email address before it will go through. So I just make up both; I have dummy emails. ABC@XYZ.com, that sort of thing. And I tell them so. I'm not giving them my name; they shouldn't require that for passenger feedback.

Similar situations happened yesterday as well, and I had to call Karen and say I'll be about 20 minutes late for rehearsal.

But this morning was the worst--EVERYONE at work was late today. When I got to the 137th St. station, the platform was already 3-4 deep, which meant it had been awhile since the last train. We waited another 5-7 minutes--we saw a train coming finally, but guess what! It wasn't taking on any passengers! Fooled ya! Another 5-7 minutes and another train comes--but it is PACKED to the gills with passengers. No one, I mean no one, could get on. Finally a third train came and we could embark but it filled up pretty rapidly and the poor passengers at 116th, 110th and 103rd were screwed. And of course it was going veeeerrrryyy slooooowly, oozing out passengers. We just outright stopped at 125th St. for a few minutes while the dance of the "Stand Clear for Closing Doors" was happening. Closing doors, opening doors. Lather, rinse, repeat.

And there was drama in my car--a man and a woman were yelling at each other about something. I think the man might've been a conductor or something, but I heard the woman yelling something about "these conditions" and him saying something back, and then she yelled "I'm NOT pushing you, I just can't move!"

MTA, Going Your Way! Your tax dollars at work, people!

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ceebeegee

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