I got to the BART station and stood in my usual line. Right away I spotted her -- a lurker to the right. She was standing a good 2 feet away from my line and when the next train came and went, she actually moved up -- as if she was in line herself -- but stayed her 2 feet away.
As more people came to check out the line situation, the more worried I became that someone would actually stand behind the lurker lady and create a third line full of lurkers who don't understand the concept of a line and lining up and following BART protocol.
But luckily this didn't happen.
Instead, the lurker lady remained in her invisible line, and she actually turned around a few times to look at all of us. From what I could tell, BART wasn't a new experience to her; she didn't have that look of confusion or self-righteousness that many other lurkers have. She bravely had her bag sitting on the platform for any loony to grab and run off with -- this was my only indication that maybe she was just visiting because if you take BART everyday, you know to hold onto your bags and packages. Every man for himself.
Since lurker season has begun, I've gotten a bit more brazen with my line maneuvering, and I tend to close off the lurkers to the right by moving to the right and moving up if the train at the platform is not my train. This confuses lurkers because since they don't know line etiquette; they don't realize that I'm trying to get out of the way of the people who are in line and who want to get on the train. It's called order. So they usually try to get onto the train by getting around me, which causes a big line mess and dirty looks thrown in their direction. One of these days the line people will revolt against a lurker and it will not be pretty.
I, of course, stand where I am, oblivious to them and their lurker situation because if you're not in line, you're not important to me.
So I was watching the lurker lady to see what she would do, and since I didn't know which train she was going to get on, I was getting myself pumped up for a fight. I was holding a big storage box too -- even better. Since she wasn't imporant to me, I would just have to bash her with my box! Oh, the plans I had.... But it turned out she got on the train before mine. She had the nerve to follow the motion of the line and then slip in between the first and second person.
And what was even more interesting was that based on what was going on with the line when I first got in it, she would have been the second person if she was in line to begin with. So why bother? What's wrong with you lurkers????
Tuesday, May 31, 2005
Thursday, May 26, 2005
Lurkers, lurkers everywhere
It's the return of the lurker season!!!
I've mentioned lurkers before, and while they are fairly common, it seems when summertime is upon us, they come out in droves to the BART station.
Today, while I was waiting for the Fremont train to get my tired butt home, a lurker with a suitcase (the worst kind) tramped her way to the front of the line. I think she was asking me which train went to the airport, but I had my earbuds in and my music up loud and I was reading and well, I really don't care that she didn't take the time to figure out how to get to the airport via public transportation, so I never looked up.
What I really don't get about lurkers with suitcases is that 1. Why they don't figure out how to use the public transportation system of their choice when they decided that's how they're going to go. and 2. Why they don't talk to the station agent before heading downstairs with their suitcase.
I've gone on several trips where I used another city's public transportation system, and I figured it out before using it. These people live here and don't even bother. Believe me, until you use Boston's MBTA system, you haven't lived. Talk about confusing. And never once did we ask another train rider for help. We got lost and suffered, or figured it out ourselves, or asked the guy in the booth who you can hardly see because it's so dark down in the tunnels. Good thing it only costs a quarter for a token because there's nothing like going down one entryway to figure out you need to be on the other side – which requires another token to get to.
Anyway. So this lady apparently thought I was helpful, but since I didn't answer her, she moved to the lady in front of me who very noncommittally said "Fremont Train," and looked away. No one who takes BART every day wants to have a lurker piggyback him or her. First it's "which train do I take, looky-me, I'm a dummy who didn't think this through," and then it's the lurker sitting next to you and wanting to TALK to you while they're on the train. Hello? Get away, lurker!
She did get on the train, and low and behold, she did sit next to the lady whom she asked which train to take (oh man, it could have been me!). But she was very important and had to talk on her cell phone the whole way to Oakland while leaning forward and squinting at the train map every 5 seconds. Look – if you're going to ask someone which train to take, I can understand at least looking one time to see if the person isn't lying to you and sending you off to the bowels of Richmond, but to look every 5 seconds gets old. It also makes the person who's nice enough to be your personal transportation director not want to give out info to the next lurker. And talking on your cell phone is just plain annoying.
So here's a lesson for lurkers – if someone willingly approaches a lurker and chats them up, just know something bad is happening behind the scenes. My mom told me story once where a couple who came to the Bay Area for a visit were on the BART platform and obviously looked like tourists (some but not all tourists are lurkers). A "very well-dressed" businessman approached them and asked them if they needed help figuring out which train to take. Always say no. Even if you do end up in Richmond. No regular BART rider will willingly approach you, you lurker. We don't care, and we certainly don't want to take your BART ride success as our responsibility. Needless to say, the tourists were out 1000 bucks or something like that. Nice businessman was helping himself to their money while he was chatting them up. How do you think he got to be so well-dressed???
I've mentioned lurkers before, and while they are fairly common, it seems when summertime is upon us, they come out in droves to the BART station.
Today, while I was waiting for the Fremont train to get my tired butt home, a lurker with a suitcase (the worst kind) tramped her way to the front of the line. I think she was asking me which train went to the airport, but I had my earbuds in and my music up loud and I was reading and well, I really don't care that she didn't take the time to figure out how to get to the airport via public transportation, so I never looked up.
What I really don't get about lurkers with suitcases is that 1. Why they don't figure out how to use the public transportation system of their choice when they decided that's how they're going to go. and 2. Why they don't talk to the station agent before heading downstairs with their suitcase.
I've gone on several trips where I used another city's public transportation system, and I figured it out before using it. These people live here and don't even bother. Believe me, until you use Boston's MBTA system, you haven't lived. Talk about confusing. And never once did we ask another train rider for help. We got lost and suffered, or figured it out ourselves, or asked the guy in the booth who you can hardly see because it's so dark down in the tunnels. Good thing it only costs a quarter for a token because there's nothing like going down one entryway to figure out you need to be on the other side – which requires another token to get to.
Anyway. So this lady apparently thought I was helpful, but since I didn't answer her, she moved to the lady in front of me who very noncommittally said "Fremont Train," and looked away. No one who takes BART every day wants to have a lurker piggyback him or her. First it's "which train do I take, looky-me, I'm a dummy who didn't think this through," and then it's the lurker sitting next to you and wanting to TALK to you while they're on the train. Hello? Get away, lurker!
She did get on the train, and low and behold, she did sit next to the lady whom she asked which train to take (oh man, it could have been me!). But she was very important and had to talk on her cell phone the whole way to Oakland while leaning forward and squinting at the train map every 5 seconds. Look – if you're going to ask someone which train to take, I can understand at least looking one time to see if the person isn't lying to you and sending you off to the bowels of Richmond, but to look every 5 seconds gets old. It also makes the person who's nice enough to be your personal transportation director not want to give out info to the next lurker. And talking on your cell phone is just plain annoying.
So here's a lesson for lurkers – if someone willingly approaches a lurker and chats them up, just know something bad is happening behind the scenes. My mom told me story once where a couple who came to the Bay Area for a visit were on the BART platform and obviously looked like tourists (some but not all tourists are lurkers). A "very well-dressed" businessman approached them and asked them if they needed help figuring out which train to take. Always say no. Even if you do end up in Richmond. No regular BART rider will willingly approach you, you lurker. We don't care, and we certainly don't want to take your BART ride success as our responsibility. Needless to say, the tourists were out 1000 bucks or something like that. Nice businessman was helping himself to their money while he was chatting them up. How do you think he got to be so well-dressed???
Tuesday, May 24, 2005
When a 10-car train becomes an 8-car train
I think I cursed myself the other day when I said to D that I haven't had any problems on BART lately because right after I said that, stupid things have been happening. Nothing major -- the worse is just being late because of brake issues or police activity at stations (luckily not for me). I can't even remember the last time they took my train out of service mid-commute (cursing myself again, I know).
I got to the BART station this evening and everything seemed normal. The Fremont train was a bit late, but no big thing -- a few minutes wasn't going to kill me. I was standing in my usual spot so I would get on the first car in the back. I wasn't sure if D was going to meet me on the train at Embarcadero, so I had my "hog up the whole bench" plan of wearing my wool overcoat until I got on the BART train. Then I would take it off, having to "take up" the whole bench as I did until I got to Embarcadero. Sometimes it's really hard coming up with things to do so that I'm hogging the bench until the train takes off. This is the only way to guaranty an empty seat next to me until Embarcadero so that D can sit next to me. Unfortunately my three fates in life are 1. being the person people want to sit next to on BART, 2. being the weak link in traffic (although I try very hard not to be because then it takes me forever to get home!) and 3. being invisible girl (anyone who wants to get that made into a t-shirt to give to me, I wear a size medium in men's tees and a size large in girlie tees).
Last week I had to be the most obnoxious I've ever been to ensure that D could sit next to me. Usually I sit all the way in the back, but that day the back was full of single sitters, so I sat in the middle section but near the door. D didn't see me right away, and people were bypassing me until this one business man stopped right when I caught D's eye. So I slammed my book down on the seat next to me and stared ahead like he wasn't there. He stood there and stared at me for a bit, then moved on. D sat down. She thought it was pretty amazing that the man knew she needed to sit down because of her condition (buns in the oven -- two cinnamon rolls, in fact). But I had to tell her what I did. I still think it's funny because that's the sort of thing I would be crazed about if I were at the receiving end. So yeah, it's getting a more difficult to save a seat casually for some reason.
So there I was, I had a light jacket on underneath my wool overcoat, I was reading and listening to my music, when I heard the first announcement about some doors not opening on a BART train. I didn't pay any mind since the Fremont train was 7 minutes away. When my train was next, I was in the front of the line, and I was getting hot. I couldn't wait to get my wool overcoat off. Great plan I had to hog the bench because I was getting antsy about taking it off.
The announcement came over the PA system again about the doors not opening on some BART train, so I pulled out one of my earbuds to listen. Of course, it was for my stupid BART train. The the doors on the first two cars won't open, so move to the third car, the announcement said. So I had to loose my prized place in line, move to another line and hope for the best. I put my book away because I had a feeling I would be standing.
The train came, and all of the displaced Fremont train waiters shuffled into whichever car they could get on. When the train entered the station, I noticed the first two cars were empty. Idiots! I thought to myself. So what if the doors don't open? Doesn't mean you can't sit in the car. So I became one of them pushy people who try to get from one end of the car to the other when the car's packed. I got to the other end, trailing a lady who had the same plan, to find out that the BART people thought it would be best to lock the sliding doors to the empty cars. Idiots! I thought to myself again. I let out a huge sigh.
I was stuck. Standing. I hate standing. Standing in my wool overcoat that I had so devisely decided to wear from work to the BART station instead of carrying it because it was part of my "hog the bench" plan. I tend to be one of those people who wait until the there are a ton of empty seats before I sit down too because the competition for sitting becomes insane. Usually the men win, so I figure why bother.
Speaking of men. There was a man sitting on the handicap bench, and when he got up to get off, this business man slyly maneuvered his leg into the leg space for the seat and slide himself in. He didn't give anyone a chance (old, women or handicap folk -- no one). I think he was a special person. I certainly wasn't. And then a little old man got on and had to stand. I wonder about people. I know I'm a seat hog, but when it comes to the cattle car times, I will not sit down if you look an ounce weaker or older than me.
I finally got to sit in the seats facing each other, and instead of letting a woman sit down, this young guy sat in the second empty seat in the same section as I. What does he do? Stretches his legs out so they're underneath my bench and tilts his head back. While other people who could probably use a seat were standing.
So that's the story of the 10-car train turning into an 8-car train. Never did see D although she was on the same car -- but at the other end. I took my wool overcoat off as soon as I got off the train.....great plan I had.
I got to the BART station this evening and everything seemed normal. The Fremont train was a bit late, but no big thing -- a few minutes wasn't going to kill me. I was standing in my usual spot so I would get on the first car in the back. I wasn't sure if D was going to meet me on the train at Embarcadero, so I had my "hog up the whole bench" plan of wearing my wool overcoat until I got on the BART train. Then I would take it off, having to "take up" the whole bench as I did until I got to Embarcadero. Sometimes it's really hard coming up with things to do so that I'm hogging the bench until the train takes off. This is the only way to guaranty an empty seat next to me until Embarcadero so that D can sit next to me. Unfortunately my three fates in life are 1. being the person people want to sit next to on BART, 2. being the weak link in traffic (although I try very hard not to be because then it takes me forever to get home!) and 3. being invisible girl (anyone who wants to get that made into a t-shirt to give to me, I wear a size medium in men's tees and a size large in girlie tees).
Last week I had to be the most obnoxious I've ever been to ensure that D could sit next to me. Usually I sit all the way in the back, but that day the back was full of single sitters, so I sat in the middle section but near the door. D didn't see me right away, and people were bypassing me until this one business man stopped right when I caught D's eye. So I slammed my book down on the seat next to me and stared ahead like he wasn't there. He stood there and stared at me for a bit, then moved on. D sat down. She thought it was pretty amazing that the man knew she needed to sit down because of her condition (buns in the oven -- two cinnamon rolls, in fact). But I had to tell her what I did. I still think it's funny because that's the sort of thing I would be crazed about if I were at the receiving end. So yeah, it's getting a more difficult to save a seat casually for some reason.
So there I was, I had a light jacket on underneath my wool overcoat, I was reading and listening to my music, when I heard the first announcement about some doors not opening on a BART train. I didn't pay any mind since the Fremont train was 7 minutes away. When my train was next, I was in the front of the line, and I was getting hot. I couldn't wait to get my wool overcoat off. Great plan I had to hog the bench because I was getting antsy about taking it off.
The announcement came over the PA system again about the doors not opening on some BART train, so I pulled out one of my earbuds to listen. Of course, it was for my stupid BART train. The the doors on the first two cars won't open, so move to the third car, the announcement said. So I had to loose my prized place in line, move to another line and hope for the best. I put my book away because I had a feeling I would be standing.
The train came, and all of the displaced Fremont train waiters shuffled into whichever car they could get on. When the train entered the station, I noticed the first two cars were empty. Idiots! I thought to myself. So what if the doors don't open? Doesn't mean you can't sit in the car. So I became one of them pushy people who try to get from one end of the car to the other when the car's packed. I got to the other end, trailing a lady who had the same plan, to find out that the BART people thought it would be best to lock the sliding doors to the empty cars. Idiots! I thought to myself again. I let out a huge sigh.
I was stuck. Standing. I hate standing. Standing in my wool overcoat that I had so devisely decided to wear from work to the BART station instead of carrying it because it was part of my "hog the bench" plan. I tend to be one of those people who wait until the there are a ton of empty seats before I sit down too because the competition for sitting becomes insane. Usually the men win, so I figure why bother.
Speaking of men. There was a man sitting on the handicap bench, and when he got up to get off, this business man slyly maneuvered his leg into the leg space for the seat and slide himself in. He didn't give anyone a chance (old, women or handicap folk -- no one). I think he was a special person. I certainly wasn't. And then a little old man got on and had to stand. I wonder about people. I know I'm a seat hog, but when it comes to the cattle car times, I will not sit down if you look an ounce weaker or older than me.
I finally got to sit in the seats facing each other, and instead of letting a woman sit down, this young guy sat in the second empty seat in the same section as I. What does he do? Stretches his legs out so they're underneath my bench and tilts his head back. While other people who could probably use a seat were standing.
So that's the story of the 10-car train turning into an 8-car train. Never did see D although she was on the same car -- but at the other end. I took my wool overcoat off as soon as I got off the train.....great plan I had.
Thursday, May 19, 2005
Guess who?
I had a lot of things on my mind this morning, and I was a bit tired. I couldn't concentrate on my book, so I just succumbed to sleep around my normal time (I've been staying awake to ward off Red-haired guy each morning since he doesn't seem to like me if I'm awake) - at Bayfair.
I've got my eyes closed, head tilted to left and I'm listening to my music. At some point I'm no longer listening to my music...probably about a total of 1 whole minute, when BAM! Someone sits down next to me.
From the jolt I received, I assumed this was a very large person (they tend to like me the best because I don't take up more room than I need -- lucky me) based on the seismic wave I felt through the bench. I had to look. Normally I wouldn't -- I would be woken up, and I would just keep my little eyes closed while my anger raged through me. Then I would eventually go back to sleep. But since this was so jarring...I had to look.
Guess who???
Red-haired guy!
So, what I'm getting from this past week's experiences is that:
I've got my eyes closed, head tilted to left and I'm listening to my music. At some point I'm no longer listening to my music...probably about a total of 1 whole minute, when BAM! Someone sits down next to me.
From the jolt I received, I assumed this was a very large person (they tend to like me the best because I don't take up more room than I need -- lucky me) based on the seismic wave I felt through the bench. I had to look. Normally I wouldn't -- I would be woken up, and I would just keep my little eyes closed while my anger raged through me. Then I would eventually go back to sleep. But since this was so jarring...I had to look.
Guess who???
Red-haired guy!
So, what I'm getting from this past week's experiences is that:
- Red-haired guy does, in fact, hate me
- Red-haired guy does, in fact, want to make my life a living hell -- if I'm asleep
- Red-haired guy wears stinky cologne
I had to smirk because it was funny that he would only sit next to me if I was asleep. If I'm awake, he won't. Very interesting. It's just too bad that I usually pass out before Oakland Coliseum.
And what does Red-haired guy do after he causes his earthquake (presumably an "on purpose" earthquake) -- he read his newspaper. He has to hold it like it's the widest document in the world. And he's not a skinny man, nor is he fat, but his is unusally bigger than the average person, so he was already sitting right next to me -- touching and everything (ick), but his style of newspaper reading makes his arm rub against my arm. Just not fun. I seriously think Red-haired guy thinks he's the MVP of the BART train. Come on, you can read one side at a time like normal folks do....
Poor Red-haired guy was tired himself, so he decided to close his newspaper up and closed his eyes.
Since he woke me up, I decided to be subtly annoying. I turned my iPOD up as loud as I could (really good for the ears) hoping that he could hear it, I started tapping my right leg to the music-- the leg next to him, I fiddled with my stuff in hope of accidental jabs.
Red-haired man moved when we got to Embarcadero. Can't say it was because of me or not, but at least I didn't have to deal with him trapping me because he's so slow to move.
I wonder what tomorrow will bring between me and Red-haired guy? Perhaps I'll move to the front of the car to see if he's still attracted to me for some reason. I wanted to whisper to him, "I write about you, you Red-haired guy...," but then I would have looked a bit loony. If anything, Red-haired guy needs to lay off the cologne.
Tuesday, May 17, 2005
Stupid Little Man
First -- just a quick note -- Red-haired man bypassed me again this morning. Sat on the bench behind me. This is getting interesting. I guess he does hate me.
Second -- the quick tale of the stupid little man.
So you have to be either really quick and crafty to get on the escalator going up some mornings or you just have to wait. Lately I've been waiting because I don't like being one of those "darters" who try to cut the people off who are in the stream going to the escalators. Really, what am I saving? 1 minute? 30 seconds? Gee - if you're that interested in getting to work, then you go right ahead. I'll just linger by this pole over here.
This morning, there was a gap between the second to last person in the stream and the last person. Usually the people getting out of the first door on the first car maintain this stream. I'm coming from the second door on the first car, so I have to maneuver myself into the stream without annoying anyone. Now, this is the stream going up the right side of the escalator -- the lazy person's side. You aren't expected to walk; you just stand leisurely or sleepily while the escalator does its job. Since there was a reasonable gap, I moved smoothly into the line. Kind of like changing lanes in traffic...sometimes it's smooth, sometimes it's fatal.
I was just about ready to step onto the first step of the escalator when this little stupid man came out of nowhere, gave me a quick side glance (obviously he didn't know who he was dealing with here) and tried to squeeze right in front of me! I thought, waaaaiiiiittt a minute. Are you one of them special people that think the BART operators will open the door for you because you've rushed the train? Well, not on my beat, Mr. Stupid Little Man! I had a choice, either risk breaking my neck because this stupid little man wanted in front of me or push him out and not let him in. I choose number 2. I was basically stepping on the escalator at that point, so if I tried to stop, I would have cause a major traffic jam and possibly a few broken bones. If you don't know the escalator etiquette, then that's not my fault and I wasn't put on this earth to teach you.
So I assumed stupid little man would at least stick to the left side of the escalator (the side for weird people who like exercise), huff it up a few steps and try to squeeze into a gap further up, but he didn't. I guess he was behind me, but I didn't feel any kicks to my calves by his stupid little man feet. Not really sure what happened to him. But believe me, I was wondering all the way up because I didn't want to be ambushed by stupid little man hands.
Oh, man...side glances equate you not getting your way with me. Don't even try it....
Second -- the quick tale of the stupid little man.
So you have to be either really quick and crafty to get on the escalator going up some mornings or you just have to wait. Lately I've been waiting because I don't like being one of those "darters" who try to cut the people off who are in the stream going to the escalators. Really, what am I saving? 1 minute? 30 seconds? Gee - if you're that interested in getting to work, then you go right ahead. I'll just linger by this pole over here.
This morning, there was a gap between the second to last person in the stream and the last person. Usually the people getting out of the first door on the first car maintain this stream. I'm coming from the second door on the first car, so I have to maneuver myself into the stream without annoying anyone. Now, this is the stream going up the right side of the escalator -- the lazy person's side. You aren't expected to walk; you just stand leisurely or sleepily while the escalator does its job. Since there was a reasonable gap, I moved smoothly into the line. Kind of like changing lanes in traffic...sometimes it's smooth, sometimes it's fatal.
I was just about ready to step onto the first step of the escalator when this little stupid man came out of nowhere, gave me a quick side glance (obviously he didn't know who he was dealing with here) and tried to squeeze right in front of me! I thought, waaaaiiiiittt a minute. Are you one of them special people that think the BART operators will open the door for you because you've rushed the train? Well, not on my beat, Mr. Stupid Little Man! I had a choice, either risk breaking my neck because this stupid little man wanted in front of me or push him out and not let him in. I choose number 2. I was basically stepping on the escalator at that point, so if I tried to stop, I would have cause a major traffic jam and possibly a few broken bones. If you don't know the escalator etiquette, then that's not my fault and I wasn't put on this earth to teach you.
So I assumed stupid little man would at least stick to the left side of the escalator (the side for weird people who like exercise), huff it up a few steps and try to squeeze into a gap further up, but he didn't. I guess he was behind me, but I didn't feel any kicks to my calves by his stupid little man feet. Not really sure what happened to him. But believe me, I was wondering all the way up because I didn't want to be ambushed by stupid little man hands.
Oh, man...side glances equate you not getting your way with me. Don't even try it....
Monday, May 16, 2005
Red-haired Guy
So today I had my first encounter with the red-haired guy since I changed my hours in February. He's the guy I'd rather not sit next to if I had a choice between him and that lady...the guy I made a point to move away from because he was irritating me so. I think the feeling is mutual. Perhaps when I decided to get away from him, he had decided to get away from me?
I was reading -- trying to finish my book before I got off the train (didn't happen) and I knew that I was one of the last people to be sat next to. We got to Oakland Coliseum, and I was thinking to myself that someone would probably sit next to me now. My time was due. Someone got on and went to my bench, they paused, and then sat down in the empty seat on the bench in front of me.
I thought, "Wait a minute! This is red-haired guy's stop...." So I looked up at the person who just sat down, and low and behold -- red-haired guy! He was going to sit next to me and for some reason changed his mind. Was it because I wasn't asleep (I usually am at this stop) or was it because it was me? Hmm....Interesting.
Red-haired guy dislikes me just as much as I dislike him.
When we got to Montgomery (his stop as well -- but he used to sit there for days sometimes, trapping poor little me -- hence my dislike for red-haired ), I got up quickly and since he lagged in getting up, I stepped in front of him. I'll show you, stupid red-haired guy and your darn newspaper. Don't cross my path!
Flashback -- this was the ultimate topper with him, when my dislike towards him peaked so high that I had to move seats to avoid him:
It was in the winter during the super stormy times. I was asleep when we got to Oakland Coliseum, and red-haired guy got on and sat down next to mmane. It was extremely quiet that morning -- no one was talking, either just reading or sleeping. And here comes stupid red-haired guy with his stupid cell phone and his stupid talking. As soon as his butt hit the seat, he dialed up someone to tell him or her it was really raining outside. Again, this was a very stormy morning -- really bad wind and rain and everything. Maybe even thunder and lightening. But no one else felt the need to call up someone and tell that person how it was raining and how it was affecting their morning. That was, except red-haired guy. And he did this while sitting next to me as I was sleeping. Obviously I wasn't sleeping anymore after he started yowling about the weather.
And in all my times of having to sit next to him, he's never once made a phone call. So that was annoying by itself. I don't want someone who talks on the phone sitting next to me. That is probably the most annoying part of BART -- being trapped in someone else's conversation. If they're interesting, then that's another story.
Anyway, so to show my annoyance, I sighed very loudly and gave him a hard stare. Nothing. Then I scrambled with my iPOD to turn it up, which, as I've said before, if I'm mad and crazed, I usually just end up popping my ear buds out of my ear. So I was stuffing them back in, turning that baby up as high as I could to block him out, and then sighed loudly again. Get my point? Shut up! Why do cell phone talkers pick quiet people to sit next to? Go stand in the corner and leave us alone....
He eventually got off the phone. But was does he do right after? Began reading the newspaper. How does red-haired guy who was the only one affected by the storm read the newspaper? With both arms held wide open so that the left arm was poking into my personal space. Oh my. I was ready to kill him or punch many holes through his newspaper or shove him in his chubs. Red-haired guy was my nemesis!
The next day, I moved to the front of the car, only to find that red-haired guy planned to do the same. I believe he actually sat next to me that morning. And that was when I got to correlation between the guy who reads the newspaper every morning as he sat next to me, the guy who thought the storm was his personal ruiner of good times, and the man who was now sitting next to me. He was the same man. The same stupid red-haired guy! I live by the BART rule of "see no evil," so I hardly really look at the people who sit next to me. Unless they're trying to strangle me...
So, long story short, obviously red-haired guy has issues with little ol' me. And to think that I would affect someone so much? Usually I'm asleep. But I guess when you make me crazed, then I'm pretty noticeable....
I was reading -- trying to finish my book before I got off the train (didn't happen) and I knew that I was one of the last people to be sat next to. We got to Oakland Coliseum, and I was thinking to myself that someone would probably sit next to me now. My time was due. Someone got on and went to my bench, they paused, and then sat down in the empty seat on the bench in front of me.
I thought, "Wait a minute! This is red-haired guy's stop...." So I looked up at the person who just sat down, and low and behold -- red-haired guy! He was going to sit next to me and for some reason changed his mind. Was it because I wasn't asleep (I usually am at this stop) or was it because it was me? Hmm....Interesting.
Red-haired guy dislikes me just as much as I dislike him.
When we got to Montgomery (his stop as well -- but he used to sit there for days sometimes, trapping poor little me -- hence my dislike for red-haired ), I got up quickly and since he lagged in getting up, I stepped in front of him. I'll show you, stupid red-haired guy and your darn newspaper. Don't cross my path!
Flashback -- this was the ultimate topper with him, when my dislike towards him peaked so high that I had to move seats to avoid him:
It was in the winter during the super stormy times. I was asleep when we got to Oakland Coliseum, and red-haired guy got on and sat down next to mmane. It was extremely quiet that morning -- no one was talking, either just reading or sleeping. And here comes stupid red-haired guy with his stupid cell phone and his stupid talking. As soon as his butt hit the seat, he dialed up someone to tell him or her it was really raining outside. Again, this was a very stormy morning -- really bad wind and rain and everything. Maybe even thunder and lightening. But no one else felt the need to call up someone and tell that person how it was raining and how it was affecting their morning. That was, except red-haired guy. And he did this while sitting next to me as I was sleeping. Obviously I wasn't sleeping anymore after he started yowling about the weather.
And in all my times of having to sit next to him, he's never once made a phone call. So that was annoying by itself. I don't want someone who talks on the phone sitting next to me. That is probably the most annoying part of BART -- being trapped in someone else's conversation. If they're interesting, then that's another story.
Anyway, so to show my annoyance, I sighed very loudly and gave him a hard stare. Nothing. Then I scrambled with my iPOD to turn it up, which, as I've said before, if I'm mad and crazed, I usually just end up popping my ear buds out of my ear. So I was stuffing them back in, turning that baby up as high as I could to block him out, and then sighed loudly again. Get my point? Shut up! Why do cell phone talkers pick quiet people to sit next to? Go stand in the corner and leave us alone....
He eventually got off the phone. But was does he do right after? Began reading the newspaper. How does red-haired guy who was the only one affected by the storm read the newspaper? With both arms held wide open so that the left arm was poking into my personal space. Oh my. I was ready to kill him or punch many holes through his newspaper or shove him in his chubs. Red-haired guy was my nemesis!
The next day, I moved to the front of the car, only to find that red-haired guy planned to do the same. I believe he actually sat next to me that morning. And that was when I got to correlation between the guy who reads the newspaper every morning as he sat next to me, the guy who thought the storm was his personal ruiner of good times, and the man who was now sitting next to me. He was the same man. The same stupid red-haired guy! I live by the BART rule of "see no evil," so I hardly really look at the people who sit next to me. Unless they're trying to strangle me...
So, long story short, obviously red-haired guy has issues with little ol' me. And to think that I would affect someone so much? Usually I'm asleep. But I guess when you make me crazed, then I'm pretty noticeable....
Wednesday, May 11, 2005
Like moths to a flame...or something like that.
For some reason that I will never understand, the same people tend to sit next to the same people on BART. And for some reason, this drives me nuts. I don't want the same person sitting next to me every day. Who do you think you are that I want you next to me? Why don't you go sit next to someone else and drive them nuts? Take up their personal space and leave mine alone!
For way over a year, I was taking the same train each morning -- the one that leaves a few minutes after 6am. For way over a year, the same lady would sit next to me. If not her, then this red-haired man that I almost killed one day because he really gets on my nerves. If I had my choice, I would pick her over him. If I really had a choice, no one would be sitting next to me unless I knew him or her. So come February, my work schedule changed and I was taking an earlier train. And then come April, my work schedule changed again, and I was taking a way later train. Then come the middle of April when I couldn't stand coming into work so late, I went back to either the earlier train or my normal, few minutes after 6am train.
Lately I've been getting on the earlier train -- not for any particular reason, just timing. But today, I got on the one a few minutes after 6am. Saw some of the same people I used to always see -- these two men who always sit next to each other, another fellow Translink patron who used to feed stray cats when the Hertz rental car lot wasn't in the BART parking lot...those people. I settled in, started reading, fell asleep, woke up and someone was sitting next to me.
It was that same darn lady. She must have missed me. But maybe not because she used to get up at Montgomery right at the time I wanted to stand up and get to the door (after the train stops, thank you, don't want to fall on my face like so many others do). I had to ask her to move.
I mean, if it were me who got on during the train commute, I would personally mix it up with whom I sat down next to. You don't want anyone thinking you're weird or keen on him or her or something. I can kind of see why someone would pick the same person over and over -- limits the surprise element on when the window seater wants to get off the train. It's like some BART entity is pairing us up. My only hope is that I don't get stuck next to the red-haired man. I actually moved to a different bench because the guy was driving me nuts. And of course, he followed me.
Like moths to a flame....
For way over a year, I was taking the same train each morning -- the one that leaves a few minutes after 6am. For way over a year, the same lady would sit next to me. If not her, then this red-haired man that I almost killed one day because he really gets on my nerves. If I had my choice, I would pick her over him. If I really had a choice, no one would be sitting next to me unless I knew him or her. So come February, my work schedule changed and I was taking an earlier train. And then come April, my work schedule changed again, and I was taking a way later train. Then come the middle of April when I couldn't stand coming into work so late, I went back to either the earlier train or my normal, few minutes after 6am train.
Lately I've been getting on the earlier train -- not for any particular reason, just timing. But today, I got on the one a few minutes after 6am. Saw some of the same people I used to always see -- these two men who always sit next to each other, another fellow Translink patron who used to feed stray cats when the Hertz rental car lot wasn't in the BART parking lot...those people. I settled in, started reading, fell asleep, woke up and someone was sitting next to me.
It was that same darn lady. She must have missed me. But maybe not because she used to get up at Montgomery right at the time I wanted to stand up and get to the door (after the train stops, thank you, don't want to fall on my face like so many others do). I had to ask her to move.
I mean, if it were me who got on during the train commute, I would personally mix it up with whom I sat down next to. You don't want anyone thinking you're weird or keen on him or her or something. I can kind of see why someone would pick the same person over and over -- limits the surprise element on when the window seater wants to get off the train. It's like some BART entity is pairing us up. My only hope is that I don't get stuck next to the red-haired man. I actually moved to a different bench because the guy was driving me nuts. And of course, he followed me.
Like moths to a flame....
Tuesday, May 10, 2005
Riding with the lizard
Today there was a guy in the SF BART station that I didn't want to look at too closely. I had my iPod on, so I couldn't quite tell if all his loud noise was for good or bad. I assumed bad -- I might as well since I will never know what could happen to me on the BART train anymore.
I got on my train, and I heard the guy getting on too. He was talking really loudly. I took a quick glance and realized he was mentally disabled. And completely harmless. He was with a girl in a wheelchair that seemed to be mentally disabled too. I couldn't really tell with her. As soon at the train took off, the guy jumped up to rescue a tiny Asian man. The Asian man didn't brace himself when the train took off and almost fell on top of the girl in the wheelchair. Of course, she couldn't do anything, and just sat there with a panicked expression on her face. What was a bit funny about the whole scene was that the guy was more concerned about the Asian man than the girl. And the Asian man seemed to be completely freaked out having a large, bumbling guy go after him as he yelled, "I'll help you! Lemme help you to the seat!!!" Smiling the whole time, of course. Yes, completely and utterly harmless. Sometimes it's nice to see.
So this guy was chatting up a storm to anyone, everyone or maybe no one. I wasn't spending much time watching him. Just quick glances here and there. Sometimes I wish I could swap my crazy brain for someone who was just that innocent and happy.
At some point a lady sat down in the handicap seat directly across from the guy. I didn't look, but I noticed he immediately got up and went to her. It seemed he was looking at something in her hands. At one point I could hear over my music the girl in the wheelchair saying something about flower petals, to which the guy would respond. So I thought the lady had flowers or some flower jewelry on her fingers.
When the guy started laughing and yelling in glee (yes, sounds corny, but that is what it was), I had to look up. Everyone around me was laughing. He had a lizard in his hands, and he was putting it right next to the girl in the wheelchair's face -- making her scream, of course. He laughed and laughed and quickly gave the lizard back to the lady in the handicap seat. The lady next to me was laughing, the lizard lady was laughing -- it was one of those rare moments when everyone near each other was taking the time to experience this one slightly silly moment and actually laughing -- not at this guy, but with this guy.
The train stopped, and he ran off, girl in wheelchair in tow. He was still laughing and running around the platform while she was getting off. She was muttering something to him -- probably telling him in her own way what a jerk he was, but he didn't care. None of us cared. It was just nice.
I then got a good look at the lizard and the lizard lady. Fairly normal looking woman -- not one you'd expect with a lizard. She was holding her lizard like he was the best pet ever. The lady next to me (who spent all the time up until this point sleeping) even asked about him and gave him a pat. The lizard was set-up like a lizard king with his own box and crickets.
It was nice riding with the lizard that day. I think he made everyone's day and will never realize it.
I got on my train, and I heard the guy getting on too. He was talking really loudly. I took a quick glance and realized he was mentally disabled. And completely harmless. He was with a girl in a wheelchair that seemed to be mentally disabled too. I couldn't really tell with her. As soon at the train took off, the guy jumped up to rescue a tiny Asian man. The Asian man didn't brace himself when the train took off and almost fell on top of the girl in the wheelchair. Of course, she couldn't do anything, and just sat there with a panicked expression on her face. What was a bit funny about the whole scene was that the guy was more concerned about the Asian man than the girl. And the Asian man seemed to be completely freaked out having a large, bumbling guy go after him as he yelled, "I'll help you! Lemme help you to the seat!!!" Smiling the whole time, of course. Yes, completely and utterly harmless. Sometimes it's nice to see.
So this guy was chatting up a storm to anyone, everyone or maybe no one. I wasn't spending much time watching him. Just quick glances here and there. Sometimes I wish I could swap my crazy brain for someone who was just that innocent and happy.
At some point a lady sat down in the handicap seat directly across from the guy. I didn't look, but I noticed he immediately got up and went to her. It seemed he was looking at something in her hands. At one point I could hear over my music the girl in the wheelchair saying something about flower petals, to which the guy would respond. So I thought the lady had flowers or some flower jewelry on her fingers.
When the guy started laughing and yelling in glee (yes, sounds corny, but that is what it was), I had to look up. Everyone around me was laughing. He had a lizard in his hands, and he was putting it right next to the girl in the wheelchair's face -- making her scream, of course. He laughed and laughed and quickly gave the lizard back to the lady in the handicap seat. The lady next to me was laughing, the lizard lady was laughing -- it was one of those rare moments when everyone near each other was taking the time to experience this one slightly silly moment and actually laughing -- not at this guy, but with this guy.
The train stopped, and he ran off, girl in wheelchair in tow. He was still laughing and running around the platform while she was getting off. She was muttering something to him -- probably telling him in her own way what a jerk he was, but he didn't care. None of us cared. It was just nice.
I then got a good look at the lizard and the lizard lady. Fairly normal looking woman -- not one you'd expect with a lizard. She was holding her lizard like he was the best pet ever. The lady next to me (who spent all the time up until this point sleeping) even asked about him and gave him a pat. The lizard was set-up like a lizard king with his own box and crickets.
It was nice riding with the lizard that day. I think he made everyone's day and will never realize it.
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