Thank you Tosh for this Friday weekend kickoff.
Friday, April 27, 2012
Share!
Since I've started this blog, I regularly have people come up to me and say "I have something for your blog..." and then tell me about their annoyance coming to work that day.
This morning a colleague told me about a man who whistled on her Metro North commute and then she couldn't shake him through Grand Central. "I just glared at him," she said.
Another colleague yesterday told me about the woman who fell asleep on her shoulder on the bus from New Jersey and snored the whole way.
Still another told me about the man who ate a banana on the subway and then left the peel on his shoe so he would remember to throw it away when he left the train. (Which he did!)
These are all great stories! Write them down and send them to me at thecrank (at) crankycommute dot com. I love hearing them and I'm sure all the blog reader would as well!
Sane travels home and happy Friday!
This morning a colleague told me about a man who whistled on her Metro North commute and then she couldn't shake him through Grand Central. "I just glared at him," she said.
Another colleague yesterday told me about the woman who fell asleep on her shoulder on the bus from New Jersey and snored the whole way.
Still another told me about the man who ate a banana on the subway and then left the peel on his shoe so he would remember to throw it away when he left the train. (Which he did!)
These are all great stories! Write them down and send them to me at thecrank (at) crankycommute dot com. I love hearing them and I'm sure all the blog reader would as well!
Sane travels home and happy Friday!
Friday, April 20, 2012
Bikes
Whenever you descend onto the subway platform ready to fight the mayhem, there is only one thought on a commuter's mind: How long do I need to wait until the next train arrives? How much longer do I have to stand on this stifling, stuffy platform before I hear that glorious distant rumble on my side of the tracks? (Some lines now have countdown clocks which help, but it's still a crapshoot on how accurate they are.)
We've all made that stressful run from the entrance of the station, down the stairs to the turnstile, fumbling for a MetroCard, hearing the train screech to a stop, hoping to make it to the platform before the doors close, a rush of satisfaction as you catch your breath, and sensing the disappointment for the commuters who can't run as fast and have to wait for the next train.
But twice last week, I leisurely strolled through the turnstile after work, walked down the stairs to the platform and saw every commuter's nightmare: A platform packed with people. Obviously a train hadn't been through in a while and it just got more and more frustrating as other trains barreled through in the other direction. I could see the faces of people on the passing train mocking us in their spacious half-empty cars. I knew that as soon as a train finally decided to arrive on our side, it would be so full that it would be the most unpleasant trip home.
Just to set the scene, it's now rush hour at the Times Square 42nd Street station, one of busiest, if not THE BUSIEST, station of all 468 stations in the system. Finally a train decides to grace us with its presence. The doors open and tons of people stream out of the train (some people try and push their way on before everyone is off, thinking the train may suddenly lurch forward leaving them behind, but that's another story...) and I hope that enough get off so we all can push our way on.
I notice some sort of bottleneck at one of the doors so I move to the next door, and as I get on, I see that someone has a bicycle on the train. It's held vertically on one wheel as the owner was trying to take up as little space as possible I suppose, but he was blocking the door so was actually doing more disservice to the flow of humanity.
OK. I understand that if you live really far away and you had a great bike ride and you're now ready to head home totally exhausted, but do you need to do it at rush hour? The MTA even has suggestions for bringing a bike on the train: "Bicycles are permitted on Subway trains at all times. However, we strongly recommend that cyclists avoid boarding crowded rush hour trains." And even a web page devoted to bike safety and courtesy: "Try not to use the subway during rush hour. Avoid rush-hour crowds. Bicycles can create dangerous situations when they prevent people from moving."
Once you drag your bike on a crowded train, everyone then has to do that awkward dance around your muddy tires and greasy chain as to not get dirty, and it's just unpleasant for everyone. So come on. You're already on two wheels. Do your body a favor and bike home, while doing our bodies a favor and stop taking up valuable commuter space.
We've all made that stressful run from the entrance of the station, down the stairs to the turnstile, fumbling for a MetroCard, hearing the train screech to a stop, hoping to make it to the platform before the doors close, a rush of satisfaction as you catch your breath, and sensing the disappointment for the commuters who can't run as fast and have to wait for the next train.
But twice last week, I leisurely strolled through the turnstile after work, walked down the stairs to the platform and saw every commuter's nightmare: A platform packed with people. Obviously a train hadn't been through in a while and it just got more and more frustrating as other trains barreled through in the other direction. I could see the faces of people on the passing train mocking us in their spacious half-empty cars. I knew that as soon as a train finally decided to arrive on our side, it would be so full that it would be the most unpleasant trip home.
Just to set the scene, it's now rush hour at the Times Square 42nd Street station, one of busiest, if not THE BUSIEST, station of all 468 stations in the system. Finally a train decides to grace us with its presence. The doors open and tons of people stream out of the train (some people try and push their way on before everyone is off, thinking the train may suddenly lurch forward leaving them behind, but that's another story...) and I hope that enough get off so we all can push our way on.
I notice some sort of bottleneck at one of the doors so I move to the next door, and as I get on, I see that someone has a bicycle on the train. It's held vertically on one wheel as the owner was trying to take up as little space as possible I suppose, but he was blocking the door so was actually doing more disservice to the flow of humanity.
OK. I understand that if you live really far away and you had a great bike ride and you're now ready to head home totally exhausted, but do you need to do it at rush hour? The MTA even has suggestions for bringing a bike on the train: "Bicycles are permitted on Subway trains at all times. However, we strongly recommend that cyclists avoid boarding crowded rush hour trains." And even a web page devoted to bike safety and courtesy: "Try not to use the subway during rush hour. Avoid rush-hour crowds. Bicycles can create dangerous situations when they prevent people from moving."
Once you drag your bike on a crowded train, everyone then has to do that awkward dance around your muddy tires and greasy chain as to not get dirty, and it's just unpleasant for everyone. So come on. You're already on two wheels. Do your body a favor and bike home, while doing our bodies a favor and stop taking up valuable commuter space.
Friday, April 13, 2012
Sous Chef - Explained
My previous post Sous Chef with the young woman chopping onions on the train is explained in Gothamnist, along with a video.
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Snack Man
This guy simply stopped a fight on the 6 Train while eating Cheddar Pringles. If all fights could be stopped so easily.
Read about him here.
The New York Times has a great profile of the Snack Man as well. "He was cool incarnate. No weapons. No visible bloodshed. Not even a loud word. A newcomer to the city, munching on chips, and a poker face for the ages."
Read about him here.
The New York Times has a great profile of the Snack Man as well. "He was cool incarnate. No weapons. No visible bloodshed. Not even a loud word. A newcomer to the city, munching on chips, and a poker face for the ages."
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Comfort
The subway is often a study on human nature. At what point does someone give in and do something they wouldn't normally do just for comfort? At my station, which is about 20 minutes from midtown Manhattan, there is usually a fight for a seat in the morning. I usually get one, but sometimes people get a little pushy just to get a place to sit.
(On a side note, one morning I was waiting for the train to arrive, and I was positioned on the platform right where I knew the door would open. I could feel someone starting to push against me from behind as the train pulled into the station, but I was not going to move. When the train stopped and the door opened, the person behind me started pushing past me to get a seat. I turned around and was ready to give them a piece of my mind, when I saw it was a woman with a teenage boy with Down's Syndrome just trying to get a seat. I stood for weeks after that...)
There is occasionally a homeless person asleep on a seat when the train gets to my station. Commuters will sit everywhere else while avoiding that seat with the unusual neighbor. If there are no open seats, however, I can see the wheels turning in the commuter's mind, actually hearing their thoughts as they decide whether to break down and sit next to the homeless character.
"I'd rather sit next to him then stand."
"If I breathe through this dirty handkerchief he almost smells like my grandfather."
"At least I'm not sitting next to that girl putting on her eye liner."
It's the same situation with a wet or dirty seat. Sometimes a seat will have water in it, and the poor person sitting closest to it is tasked with telling everyone who runs to it thinking they will have a leisurely ride, "No, it's wet. I'm sorry."
Sometimes this bearer of bad news revels in their job, I can see the glee in their face as they break heart after heart. Or they are sympathetic, breaking the news with a sad grimace, told from their perch of comfort.
Again, however, there's a breaking point and someone will eventually whip out an old tissue or a scarf to sop up the mess, or if it's just a little damp spot, they will just dive in and sit down, thinking their absorbent panties will just take care of the mess, like a human Bounty.
Comfort almost always wins out.
(On a side note, one morning I was waiting for the train to arrive, and I was positioned on the platform right where I knew the door would open. I could feel someone starting to push against me from behind as the train pulled into the station, but I was not going to move. When the train stopped and the door opened, the person behind me started pushing past me to get a seat. I turned around and was ready to give them a piece of my mind, when I saw it was a woman with a teenage boy with Down's Syndrome just trying to get a seat. I stood for weeks after that...)
There is occasionally a homeless person asleep on a seat when the train gets to my station. Commuters will sit everywhere else while avoiding that seat with the unusual neighbor. If there are no open seats, however, I can see the wheels turning in the commuter's mind, actually hearing their thoughts as they decide whether to break down and sit next to the homeless character.
"I'd rather sit next to him then stand."
"If I breathe through this dirty handkerchief he almost smells like my grandfather."
"At least I'm not sitting next to that girl putting on her eye liner."
It's the same situation with a wet or dirty seat. Sometimes a seat will have water in it, and the poor person sitting closest to it is tasked with telling everyone who runs to it thinking they will have a leisurely ride, "No, it's wet. I'm sorry."
Sometimes this bearer of bad news revels in their job, I can see the glee in their face as they break heart after heart. Or they are sympathetic, breaking the news with a sad grimace, told from their perch of comfort.
Again, however, there's a breaking point and someone will eventually whip out an old tissue or a scarf to sop up the mess, or if it's just a little damp spot, they will just dive in and sit down, thinking their absorbent panties will just take care of the mess, like a human Bounty.
Comfort almost always wins out.
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