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.