Oooooh That Smell, Can't You Smell That Smell!!!

     
In one of my previous posts, Seven Wonders Of The Train, I went over certain types of commuters that most of us would not shed a tear over if a strong gust of wind forced them off the platform and into an oncoming train.

Well folks.... I missed one...... The Big Foot!! Although I thought that I covered such douchery in it's entirety..... these types of people may need to be added to some sort of "Doucher of the week" post going forward.

       We've all had our days on the train when a few times there were fewer riders and sitting in a 4 or 5 seater presents the opportunity to kick your legs up on the seat and relax. We've all done it from time to time and eventually the conductor strolls through and asks you to take your feet of the seats. We slowly take them down until he or she is out of view and put them back up until we reach our stop, get off the train and go home for the evening. Well, the other morning, after a long night out, I catch a later train than usual and find myself sitting across Queen Bunion herself!!! Not only was she chomping down on a bran muffin and slurping down an iced coffee, she had her feet up on the seat with her shoes off.
       If you're feeling this level of comfort in public at around 7am in the morning, I can just imagine the office etiquette she portrays once she arrives at work. I'm taking the over on after lunch belching with intermittent ass scratching. I'd also predict the afternoon commuting forecast to include partly gassy with a 60% chance of loud cellphone use. Ok, ok, maybe I'm being a bit presumptuous. I think it may be the fact that the stench of feet, sound of slurping and view of a bran muffin crumb covered bunion queen was the last thing I needed to see in my hungover condition. Perhaps I should have just sat back and counted my blessings that I wasn't taking incoming toenail shrapnel if the clippers had come into play.
     I know it's been some time since I last posted and I don't want this to get lengthy but I have to add another run in with a The Big Foot. I was taking a later train home after a couple of beers with coworkers. The train was packed and the only seat open was next to this guy that was on his laptop in a 4 seater with his feet up on the seat and his bag in the seat next to him. Take into account that he was taking up 3 of the 4 seats with ass, feet and bag. To counter his selfish sprawling, I climbed over the feet and sat down next to his stinky dogs. I went one step farther, took off my shoes and put my feet right on top of his bag! I had had it with these asshole commuters and was forcing an altercation after a few pints of liquid courage. I waited and waited........ nothing! This guy continued to work on his computer and did not even look in my direction. I'm still trying to figure that one out. Well, until next time....... enjoy the ride!

Commuter Hall of Fame - Jaegermeister Jean Jacket Guy

Our second Commuter Hall of Fame award goes to 

Jaegermeister Jean Jacket Guy!

Here's to you for showing the world that not only have you consumed enough of a shot that tastes like cough syrup rung out of a sopping bar rag to win a jacket, but you also have a keen sense of style!

Extra Extra, Don't Read All About It!

I read an article in the Wall Street Journal a few days ago that had to do with the lack of parking at most Connecticut Metro North train stations. Most riders have an average of 2 - 6 years before they can get a parking pass. I was a bit surprised when the photo above the article was a picture of a guy on the Bar Car drinking a beer. The end of the article stated that you know that you've made it in Connecticut when you've got a parking space at the train station and you can get drunk on the bar car on the train ride home.

I'm confused, what does one have to do with the other. People enjoy a beer on the train after a long day, it is a 78-minute commute after all. What does a picture of a guy chugging a beer have to do with parking spaces?

What happened to decent reporters? Please tell me that all the other reporters in the tri state area are using up all of their 12 weeks of vacation time occupying Wall Street. This ass clown must be a fill in from the New York Times. No newsworthy article has been published about the Metro North in the 6 years that I've been riding and it doesn't look like there will be one anytime soon. Do they mean to tell me that the stellar investigative reporters in the New York area were only able to provide me with two regurgitated facts about my commute over the last 6 years?

1) It's easier for an alcoholic to get a liver transplant than it is to get a parking space on  the New Haven line.

2) There is a bar car on the Metro North that people ride in order to catch up with friends and enjoy a drink on their way home.

Hey, Wall Street Journal, I can't wait for that two-page spread on the findings that the sky is blue!

On a more serious note, why not try to do a story on why there are so many problems with the MTA and how to solve them so the millions of riders can enjoy their 3+ hour commutes everyday. Don't just hop off at 125th St. after taking a few pictures of people on the bar car and rewrite old news.

Commuter Hall of Fame - Lawn Chair Guy

Here's to you lawn chair guy! You sure do know how to take up as much space as possible on the bar car on a Friday afternoon when it's at full capacity! I'm not sure what you enjoyed more, being the center of attention or sitting ass level to 30+ commuters drinking beer in a confined space for over an hour. Either way, I commend you on taking an idea that you thought was great and following through with it. You truly deserve to be the first inducted into the Commuter Hall of Fame!

Red Headed Step Child

     A fellow commuter brought this to my attention yesterday. I was home due to the New Haven line being suspended after yet another snowstorm (all other lines operating on a delayed schedule). New train cars have been ordered, Westchester and Long Island have them. Why is Metro North the red headed stepchild of the MTA? Below is a letter from the MTA explaining cancellations, delays and other problems.

An Explanation for the Recent Cold Weather's Impact on New Haven Line Service

This winter’s extreme cold temperatures and large amounts of snow have presented numerous challenges that go beyond clearing our yards, switches, and station platforms. The extreme weather causes the electronic and air systems on our 40-year-old-plus New Haven Line fleet to fail.

The impact on service may have or will result in your train being short of cars, which means fewer seats and crowded conditions. In the worst case, your train can be delayed or cancelled.
The repairs required to put cars back in service will be varied, but the cold weather’s impacts to the most vulnerable components are consistent:

• Traction motors must be repaired or replaced – a job that routinely takes anywhere from eight to 16 hours to complete.


• Brakes freeze and get stuck from the extreme cold.


• Doors won’t close properly because the snow and ice that gets inside the door pockets prevents them from opening or closing on command.

There are no quick fixes. The repairs and component replacements involve a lot of time to accomplish. Many require major maintenance, and our employees are working around-the-clock to make repairs. Our goal is to provide reliable service with the equipment that we have available.

When we have significant car shortages due to the extreme cold and snow, as we have had recently, we are forced to decide whether we can operate all our trains with less cars or whether we must cancel trains. Unfortunately, this week we will have to do both.
We promise to keep you informed of service changes. We urge you to visit our website for regular updates, and where you can sign up for our email notification system and use Metro-North Train Time™ for real-time train status. Also, continue to listen for station announcements.

C Is For Cookie

     There is always something a little odd that surfaces while walking through Grand Central. This afternoon I happened to walk by Cookie Monster and Chicken playing the xylophone and stand up Bass. They were actually pretty good at playing instruments, even with furry suits on. Here is a snapshot of the musical genius that is  “Zylofolks”!!! Each morning in Grand Central, there are musical groups or single musicians that setup shop at certain locations around the station. The regulars include:

 Acoustic Folk Woman

 Vietnamese Guitar Guy

 Keyboard Billy Joel Guy

     Classical Guitar Guy

     R&B Singer Guy

So here’s to you Grand Central entertainers, for making the short time from train to office a little more enjoyable for everyone.

Polar Bear Express

      Have you ever joined a polar bear club? Have you ever felt the urge to sprint towards the ocean in December and immerse yourself into ice-cold water? Neither have I, nor did the majority of commuters on the metro north platforms and train cars this morning. We did however endure frigid temperatures for a longer period of time than most of the crazy, overweight Speedo wearing freaks do during their annual polar bear plunge. The only difference is that we buy a ticket to freeze our asses off, they do it for free?

     The dashboard temp read one degree (without wind-chill) this morning as most shoved off for work. Arriving at the station you could see a cloud of frozen breath over a mass of pissed off commuters packed 4 or 5 deep on the train platform. The rest of us were crammed into the tiny station house staring up at the newly installed digital disappointment board that listed train delay after train delay. With each delayed train came a new wave of anger in the form of Monday morning commuters.

     Eventually the refrigerated cattle cars arrived and people started piling on. When I reached the head of the pack, a train door stopped right in front of me, I was excited to get on and thaw out. The doors never opened. About 1/3rd of the trains were too crowded and continued on their way. Eventually most people made it onto a train but the fun didn't stop there! Many of these run down disco era sardine cans had no heat. People sat or were packed into the isles and stood for 76 minutes into the city. I would not be surprised if a small percentage of riders got frostbite this morning.

     Last week we received a nice note on our seats apologizing for the delays due to storms and downed power lines. This week..... nothing. Not even an email or note or announcement explaining something that would make us feel better about the torture most endured this morning. That's like locking your child outside with no coat on for an hour and a half, letting him or her inside and pretending as if nothing happened. I'd like to thank the Metro North for going above and beyond in outdoing themselves as far as faulty equipment, poor communication and overall commuter harassment goes. European high-speed rails make the metro north look like Thomas the tank engine. Keep an eye out for my next post when I will be explaining the wonderful world of walking pneumonia!

Bring It Mother Nature!

     The Metro North never ceases to amaze me. A small ice storm on Monday night can cripple the entire New Haven line but 6 inches of snow falls and the trains arrive on time, even early in my case! Other than a snorer, a seat bagger (see previous posts) and a broken seat without any real cushion or support, it wasn't a bad ride in. Here are a few pictures of a peaceful Friday morning commute in a snowstorm. Let's hope there is a bar car for the ride home. Happy Friday everyone.....

Only the inbound side is cleared. The snow is still falling while waiting for the 7:05.

Frozen windows and "scenic" views passing Norwalk.

A slow down at South Norwalk, many frustrated faces when the train stops, doesn't open the doors and keeps on going!

 Cruising past Stamford on the express.

Grand Central, my home away from home.

The Blue Lagoon

           I’m not talking about where flipper spent most of his time and we're not speaking of some tropical hidden area lush with waterfalls and vines from which to swing into a picturesque wading pool below. What we're talking about today is the four by five foot petri dish that is the designated bathroom facility on metro north railroad cars.

          Imagine this, you have been swamped at work and barely had time to eat lunch. You manage to find something close to nutritious in the vending machine and supplement the rest of your meal with large glasses of water to fend off hunger pains. You walk out of your last meeting or end your last conference call and remember that you were supposed to be home for a prior engagement and have minutes to catch the train. You check the train schedule and run out of the office with your computer still on, voicemail light still blinking and about 5 glasses of water in your stomach.

          You get to Grand Central and rush onto the train and lucky you, there are a few seats unoccupied right near the bathroom. Throwing your belongings on the seat, you duck into this twenty square foot closet of stench. With the door hinges hanging by a thread, you manage to close it and reach for the lock. There is no lock on the inside of the door. The portion of the lock that used to hold the bolt that slides over is gone and only the screw holes remain. Your only option is to hold your foot against the door and lean into it to fight off any others in your same situation.

          The train departs and this uncomfortable situation went from trying to hold the door closed with your foot, to trying to hold the door with your foot, lean on it to prevent intruders, balance yourself while trying to pee and all the while managing to avoid any direct skin contact with anything within the germ chamber. As the train rocks back and forth, you hear the unsettling back and forth sloshing of the blue water below, hoping a tsunami doesn't emerge and stain your shoes blue. You'll often see the outside flooring in front of this rolling fecal factory stained as if the tidy bowl tide has just gone out and will return 12 hours later.

You finish your business and press the flush buttoning with your shoe. A roaring WHOOOOOSH sounds and you turn to wash your hands. What you find is a small airplane like sink and faucet, no soap whatsoever and a half ass hand dryer that would probably slow the train down from the amps it pulls off the overhead wires. You manage to get a few of your fingers wet under the slow trickle of the airplane faucet and rub them together as if heavy friction will kill even half of the 3 million species of germs in the confined space. You push the hand dryer and it's power is equivalent to a small troll with asthma living inside and is huffing and puffing to the point of an aneurism trying to dry the few drops of water from your hands. You shake the excess drops onto the floor and take your foot away from the door. You survived and fight your way back to your seat through the line of 4 people waiting for the same pleasant experience. You're the lucky one, you got their first. From time to time there are people that dodge the train fares by hiding in the blue lagoon. My thoughts, enjoy the free ride. Now I know why people get arrested for public urination in or around train stations!!!

The Late Mobile

I collapsed into my seat on the train this evening and to my surprise, I get a nice note from the MTA explaining why the majority of commuters on the New Haven line were late this morning. Apparently, three thousand feet of catenary wire came down at 11:10 pm last night. Two of the three tracks were operational and the third is expected to be ok within the next few days.

Here is my question. How does three thousand feet of wire, the mother of all wires that supplies power to these ancient trains, fall down in a small ice storm? Three thousand feet is no small number, we're talking about 10 football fields here! Did some train conductor catch a sagging overhead wire and figure he would just hit the gas and try the old "yank the tablecloth" routine until it came undone? Perhaps it was the 5mph wind that was too much for the forty year old cable. I would at least expect some sort of reasonable explanation like 3,000 blackbirds decided to sit on this wire, electrocute themselves and commit mass suicide like their brethren in Arkansas that flew into a fireworks display. But no, the wire just came down.

To add insult to injury, one of the four tracks is already out of commission for a caternary wire replacement project that will last for at least a year. I guess it takes that long to remove all of the crazy glue and duct tape that have accumulated over the last forty years of top-notch service upgrades. Maybe the wires were second on the list next to new train cars. Oh.. Wait... They haven't arrived yet. They have been at least six years in the works and not one single new car has arrived. Maybe the MTA can take all of that money for the new train cars, bring it to Atlantic City, put it on red and hope to double it so that they can contribute to the "I've been riding in an antique train with shitty seats and am in need of back surgery" fund.

       Well, until that day comes, I can sleep comfortably at night knowing that deep down inside, the MTA really does care. I mean, they left us all these nice notes apologizing for what happened. I'll just make a paper hat with it to protect myself from the leaking ceilings in this circa 70's electrified, motorized, clunky late mobile.

Running To Stand Still

I saw something on the train this evening that I haven't seen in a long time: the running man! Imagine this, you've put in a long, hard day at work and want to just sit back, close your eyes and take a nice nap before you get home to your family. You doze in and out of consciousness as the doors open and close with each passing stop. You awake after a period of time where you think the exact amount of time has passed and you should be coming up on your stop. You hear the buzzer sound off as the conductor warns that the doors will be closing. Jumping up from your seat, you grab every possession you have as if you’re running out of a burning house. You hurdle over the two people in the seats next to you while stepping on both rider's feet and almost elbow one of them in the head all while coming within one false step of falling flat on your face. The mad 16 foot dash begins for the exit and YES, you have made it! You successfully manage to run and just make THE WRONG STOP. Your stop is the next stop. While enduring great shame and embarrasment, you either grab the closest seat available and pretend it never happened or walk to the next car where nobody has any idea of what just happened. It may seem like a long dreadful commute at times, but there are instances like this that can bring a smile to your face.

Seven Wonders Of The Train

In keeping with the theme of not wanting to sit next to a disgusting individual, I move on to certain tactics that people use in order to hold 1,2 or even 3 seats to themselves. To begin, let me explain the layout of Metro North trains. These rolling relics of what transportation once was came from the 1970's. Wasn't this the decade that the entire New York City transit system was in complete disarray and almost bankrupt? Then again, when is the MTA not on the verge of bankruptcy?

The length of one train car is probably about 60 or so feet and maybe 16 feet wide. There is a middle section of seating and two ends. The middle of the train would be he most desirable, due to the fact that this is where there may be remnants of actual shock absorbers. Although it wouldn't seem so, trains bounce around as if they’re going to head right off the track. I am no stranger to waking up after having my head slam into a window due the train bouncing around. This is also a great section in the summer for air conditioning and winter for heat. Sometimes people hold the doors open longer than usual and you either freeze your ass off or walk into work with a sweat stained shirt.

            Seating is setup as two seats to one side of the train and three seats to the other. The "three seater" is key because there is usually an open seat in the middle, which provides a more comfortable seating area for your ride. Only when the trains are jammed packed do people head for a middle seat. 

             Now based on my calculation just below the title of this blog, I have logged 132,000 miles on the Metro North. I am a newcomer compared to the years spent commuting by some of my train buddies.  I have noticed tactics for seating and boarding a train. Listed below are some of the things to look out for.

1) The Seat Bagger

This is probably one of the most amateur moves but still works, depending on the crowd of commuters. This brainchild places their bag on the middle seat in hopes that the average passerby mistakes this bag for an actual human being. Oh, I'm sorry, your bag is sitting there; of course I'll go find another seat. If there was full capacity on a train and middle seats are your only option, I always go for the Seat Bagger. The person that stored their bag politely above the overhead rack showed common courtesy and they deserve a chance at an empty middle seat. The Seat Bagger, he or she just got themselves a nice cozy spot next to me and my elbows.

2) Sleeping Beauty / Seat Bagger

This person must have been a failed Seat Bagger and has added a new twist to their selfish seating plot. Sleeping Beauty is most common among the two seats on the opposite side of the "three seaters”.  Sleeping Beauty grabs one of the two seats (most often the window spot) and continues to act as if they are asleep. This deters any potential seatmates to wake them and take the unoccupied space where their precious bag lays. Sleeping Beauties must suffer from some sort of narcolepsy because the only time the fall asleep is at the beginning of the ride when people are boarding or at each stop when new people get on. It truly is a sight to see.

3) The Sunday Times

Sunday Times enjoys dissecting his or her paper in such a fashion that it looks as if he's either practicing for the world origami finals or making a paper mâché train fort. Each section is sprawled out in a way where two of the three seats are absolutely covered in sections of newspaper. If this deterrent does not work and one of those two seats next to them is grabbed, one of the sections is open as wide as possible to create the illusion that ere is no more space to sit and be comfortable. Kindles, iPads and Nooks will soon drive Mr. or Mrs. Sunday Times into extinction.

4) Mr. Coffee

This may very well be the most devious of all seat whores. There are different kinds of Mr. Coffees and I'll explain why. Perhaps their name should be Mr. or Mrs. spill.  I to have witnessed on more than one occasion this evil plot of selfish seating. Mr. Coffee enters the train with his/her beverage of choice. They then proceed to spill just the perfect amount of that beverage on either the second seat in a “two seater” or the middle seat in a “three seater.” When someone enters the train they go to sit and Mr. Coffee actually points out his supposed mistaken spill but makes no actual effort to clean it up. This ensures an open space for the duration of the commute. I have also seen this with wet newspaper bags and soaking umbrellas on rainy days. I find Mr. Coffee to be the most conniving of the bunch.

5) Hungry Hungry Hippo

Hungry Hungry Hippo uses food as his or her weapon of choice. Let me tell you that a stinky onion filled sandwiches, sloppy burritos or Chinese food is the kryptonite to any regular commuter, accept for the one who is eating it. I wouldn't quite put Hungry Hungry Hippo into a selfish seating category but train etiquette definitely not at the top of their list.

6) The Operator

We do not have to go into great detail here. We all know The Operator and his/her lack of courtesy when babbling about absolute nonsense to one or more of their annoying friends or family while on their cell phone. It is very simple PUT THE PHONE DOWN!!!!! This species of rider is more comfortable in it's natural habitat of the Long Island Railroad but slow migration has started to the Metro North. Most of the Metro North Operators have quickly evolved into texters so that their species is safe from train predators.

7) Imaginary Friend

This commuter uses both Seat Bagger and Sunday Times tactics to make it seems as if two seats are not available. A bag is used in the middle seat and papers are strewn across the bag and other seat as if they were some city planner going over a new architectural masterpiece. When approaching Imaginary Friend, he or she knows that their first two tactics have failed, that is when they pull out the "I'm waiting for someone" excuse. Although it is well known that he or she will spend the rest of their commute much like their every day lives, pathetic and alone. Most wonder if it is worth it to revisit that seat once the train has departed and their "friend" has yet to show. I like to think that they are better left alone, just like their weekends and holidays.

Now I could go on about several other selfish seating techniques, but I'll save that for another post. In the meantime, keep an eye out for these seven wonders of the train. Watch them in their natural habitat and think how they relay these selfish skills into everyday life. Shows like Big Brother and The Real World pick strangers to live in a house and see how they get along. I'd be more inclined to watch a reality show on 120 people picked to ride in a train car for over an hour..... It's much more interesting.

Germ Warfare

Twice during the past week I've had a run in on the train with a cougher.  One today and one earlier this week. Here is an account of those run ins. Peak hour trains fill up fast and "3 seaters" fill to capacity. One hopes that there are fewer riders so that there is an empty seat acting as a buffer. When trains fill up, the seat buffer, along with “personal space” goes right out the window. Add cold and flu season into the mix and you’ve got the movie Outbreak on wheels!

I rushed on to get a window seat in a “3 seater”. With a minute or two before we depart, I see him...... Captain Grotesque. He was about 5'5", morbidly obese and was eyeing that middle seat as if it were his last meal. It is alot like the man code in a public restroom, you always leave one urinal in-between you and your neighbor if at all possible and he just broke the rule by taking that seat. His forehead was covered in sweat from the apparent 20-yard walk down the platform. He took his sweet time getting his jacket off and draping it across the overhead rack. As he sat down, I could feel his gut spill over into my side. His body temperature was about 110 degrees and I could feel the dampness of his shirt. I glanced over at his ticket that he pulled out for the conductor and prayed that he would get off at an earlier stop than I. I tried to ignore him and began to read my book. He pulled a book out as well and held it with his little T-Rex arms straight out in front of him agains the seat.

A cell phone rang. Sure enough, it was his. There is absolutely nothing worse than someone answering a phone on the train and continuing to talk at a high volume for all to hear. It's the equivalent to answering a call in church and proceeding to discuss the most intimate details of your life. I thought, “Could it get any worse?” At that moment, he put his phone away and began to read. A few seconds went by and the sneezing began. Captain Grotesque continuously sneezed into his book. I checked myself for stray snot shrapnel and came out unscathed. Only a few more stops and I was free! I glanced over at his book and to my surprise; page 237 was covered in a pinkish yellow mucous. It covered ⅓ of the page and he did not even attempt to close the book or turn the page to hide his disgusting phlegm wad. At this point I was ready to get up and stand in the isle the rest of the trip. We pull up to the next station and he gets off the train, I burned my clothes when I got home.

           This evening, the coughing fit began behind me. Cough after cough was erupting and all I could think about was the flu shower I was taking and there was nothing that I could do about it. A Purell foam party couldn't save me at this point! It sounded as if this woman is about 15 minutes from bleeding out. I accepted the fate of my immune system and look forward to the night sweats and 102 fever in a few days. I’ll have to suggest a quarantine car for the Metro North next time I walk by the suggestion box at Grand Central... if there is one. I guess there is nothing you can do but wear a SARS mask until flu season ends.