I Still Hate the T!

I didn't have enough time to vent about the sorry state of public transportation yesterday, because said public transportation kept me from coming in to work early enough to write about it. But I suppose I can't really blame the MBTA. Anyone who rides it with any regularity should know that if they need to be somewhere, they need to leave at least two hours early to account for the inevitable delays, switching problems, out-of-service trains, and other intangibles that make up the T experience. Sometimes I feel like I'm Mario, work is the Princess, and the MBTA is Donkey Kong, hurling barrel after barrel at me to keep me from my destination. That probably wasn't the best metaphor. Plus, now I've got that damn song stuck in my head.

Boston has the oldest subway system in the country. Given the amount of time they've had to perfect it, you'd think ours would be one of the most innovative and well-mechanized systems out there. Instead, it seems like they're still using the trains they had in 1897. At least once a day, the train stops dead on the tracks for a few minutes for a "schedule adjustment." There's been a few times when either the train ahead of us broke down, and ours had to push it to the next station, or another train was pushing my own disabled train.

It's been HOT recently. Hot and muggy. The other day, while I was slowly liquifying, Michele was quick to point out that "it's even hotter in South Carolina." Gee thanks, Al, now let's go back to the studio with Matt and Katie. I don't care if it's hotter in South Carolina. It's hotter on the sun, too, but that doesn't change the fact that I'm sweating like...um...some kid with hyperactive sweat glands. Yeah. They probably did a show like that on Dateline NBC once.

I brought that up because last week, for two days straight, I stood on the sweltering, un-air-conditioned platform under Park Street and watched as two Ashmont trains in a row pulled in. The trains are supposed to alternate between Ashmont and Braintree, but somehow another Ashmont train snuck in front of the Braintree one. Twice.

Even though I haven't compiled enough evidence, I'm seriously entertaining the idea that the T actually hates me personally. Park Street is the only stop on the Red Line where the doors open on both sides of the train. What else other than a personal grudge could account for the fact that no matter what side of the tracks I'm on when the train pulls in, the doors on the other side open first? It should be a fifty/fifty chance, right? But the doors on the opposite always open first. What did I do wrong?

Or how about last week, when I got to the platform to find a train sitting idle, with all the doors on my side closed and the ones on the other side wide open? I kept thinking about racing upstairs and coming back down on the other side before those doors closed, but I didn't think I'd make it in time. As it turned out, it stayed at the station with the doors open for two or three minutes, not counting however long it had been there before I got there.

But in all honesty, it's not all bad. Sure, the system has it's faults. And for whatever reason, I can't seem to read the paper and keep my balance at the same time. Every morning I awkwardly remove my hand from the railing, trying not to hit the heads of the overwhelmingly shorter population of the train, and try with surgical precision to turn the page. Most of the time, I end up dangerously close to toppling over and taking a few of my fellow passengers with me. But sometimes the T can offer entertainment that you just can't find anywhere else. Like me trying to read the paper, for starters.

I missed it last week when, on the heels of the bombings in London, the governor rode the T to prove that it's safe. He showed how in touch he is with us common folk by not even knowing the price of a token. "A buck," he said. When he found out it was actually $1.25, he chipped in another quarter and went on a ride from Park Street to Downtown Crossing. For you out-of-towners, not only is Downtown Crossing the next stop after Park Street, but it's probably the shortest ride of all the T lines. I don't see how riding the train for thirty seconds surrounded by bodyguards is supposed to prove anything. Romney is most likely running for president in 2008, so most people think it might have been a "political move." That might be the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Of course it's a political move, you meatheads! He's a politician! Everything they do is political, it's kind of their job. If a baseball team trades for a player, does anyone say, "I think that might be a baseball move"?

Oh, and for some reason, that weird lady with all the dead cats was there, heckling him. She was yelling, "You killed my cats!" Which may or may not have been followed by, "I wanted to do it myself, you big jerk!" My question is, what was she even doing there? It's like The Simpsons when they throw all the obscure characters into the crowd scenes. If Romney thought it was a PR disaster before, he must have really been embarrassed when Sideshow Mel and Bumblebee Man started laughing at him.

I've already told you about the bean bag kid and the crazy old man that asked some woman if she wanted him to take his shoes off so she could see his toes. But one of the weirdest things happened two Summers ago on the way home from work. The train stopped just a few hundred feet away from Quincy Adams. Every three minutes or so, a voice came over the loud speaker to let us know we'd be standing by for a few more minutes. Why were we sitting there, when the station was right there? People where getting visibly frustrated, whipping out cellphones to tell their loved ones they'd be late for dinner/soccer practice/whatever. Over in the corner, a stumpy little old guy sat quietly, taking his Metro newspaper and ripping it into strips. Then he ripped the strips again, and again, until he had a pile of newspaper squares at his feet. When he ran out of paper, he took the Metro sitting on the empty seat next to him, and started ripping that one up, too.

Eventually, I heard some muttering near the other end of the car and saw more and more people peering out the window. I turned around to see what they were looking at, and sure enough, I saw a cop running down the tracks, then a few more. I was sitting in the first car, so the conductor open the door to come out and tell us what was going on. He said the police were looking for a suspect on the tracks. He looked over at the guy with the pile of little newspaper squares in front of him.

"Why did you do that?"

"I was bored."

The conductor told him to clean it up, and went back behind the door. I went back to looking out the window. Every once in a while, a police officer would run past, but not much else was going on out there. I looked back over at the stumpy old guy. He looked like a Weeble. He hadn't picked up the newspapers like he was told. Instead, he grabbed the horizontal bar above his seat and started doing chin-ups.

Back outside the window, an MBTA cop climbed up onto the front of our train and got inside. He talked with the conductor for a while, who then came back out to give us an update. He opened the door and saw the Weeble guy doing chin-ups.

"Sir, get down from there."

"No."

"Sir, please get down, you're going to hurt yourself."

"Then I'll sue."

"You're NOT going to sue us, sir."

The Weeble guy got down, and while the conductor was talking to us, he made his way over to the double doors. He spent a bit of time opening, then closing, the compartment above the doors. When he got bored with that, he motioned towards the "Emergency Door Release" lever.

"Sir, don't touch that. Please stay in your seat.

I swear, he motioned like he was going to pull it anyway, but he sat back in his seat and pretty much stayed there from that point on.

I can't remember how long it was before we were able to pull in to the station. When I finally did get home, I turned on the news to see what was going on. Apparently, some guy robbed a bank and then took off on foot. We were stuck on the train because he was armed and they didn't want to risk anyone getting hurt. He was finally caught at Home Depot, which is right next to Quincy Adams station.

I've seen that Weeble guy before that day, and I've seen him a few times since then. He always seemed like a normal guy. But if he has to wait more than five minutes for the train to move... Bam! He turns into Margot Kidder.

So I guess sometimes the T can be alright. What it lacks in service, it more than makes up for in entertainment value.