Worst Morning Commute Ever.
Got the following email from The Husband, describing what went down on his commute to work this morning:
It was February 2003. I was living in NYC. I worked at The Evil Empire over on 26th Street. But I lived in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. After waiting for the 23rd Street bus at Chelsea Piers for 20 minutes in the bitter cold (as we were right by the icy Husdon River), I finally made it to the 23rd Street blue line subway stop.
I hopped on the subway and zoomed down to 14th Street to catch the L train back to Brooklyn. And what normally takes about 15 minutes ended up taking an hour and a half.
I had decided not to take a seat on the train, figuring that 15 minutes wasn't long enough to justify taking one. But I soon regretted my decision.
Soon after we left the First Avenue stop, and headed into the tunnel, under the East River, the train came to a SCREECHING halt. We stood still for about five minutes before the conductor came on the speaker in broken speech.
"Attention... Emergency brake... Pulled... Searching train."
Apparently someone had pulled the emergency brake. And they had decided to pull it while we were under water, in a tunnel. Bastards!
Because the brake was pulled, this meant that the conductors had to leave their car and walk through the VERY CROWDED train in search of what the emergency was. They had to walk through each car and check to see who may have pulled it.
All the while, I am standing (as are many other people), without anything to occupy my mind. No book. No music. And, to top it off, I had neglected to pee before I left work to go home. So all these factors made the time pass slowly. It felt like an eternity till I was able to get off the train and get home and pee.
After that, I vowed to always have a book on me, as well as take a seat if one was available (even if I was only going a few stops). I also vowed to do what I could to ensure I never got on a train with a dire need to pee.
Two separate incidents: 1 person arrested and 1 robbed on the subway car I was on.
(1) Was walking down Tremont (to Back Bay T station) and thought that a father and his son were just arguing as they walked. Nope - older guy was an undercover cop and had a walkie-talkie that summoned a police car to pick the kid up. No idea what the kid did.
(2) Was on the orange line and suddenly 2 kids ran out of the train at New England Medical with a young guy chasing. I thought they may have just been late trying to get off the train. Nope - they apparently punched the young guy (likely mid-20's) and stole his i-Pod. The young guy chased them, but fell getting out of the train and the kids took off.
Great way to start the day.
Now... While I appreciate that The Husband had a lot of action going down on his morning commute... I'm sure most of us have had much worse commutes in our time. Here's mine:It was February 2003. I was living in NYC. I worked at The Evil Empire over on 26th Street. But I lived in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. After waiting for the 23rd Street bus at Chelsea Piers for 20 minutes in the bitter cold (as we were right by the icy Husdon River), I finally made it to the 23rd Street blue line subway stop.
I hopped on the subway and zoomed down to 14th Street to catch the L train back to Brooklyn. And what normally takes about 15 minutes ended up taking an hour and a half.
I had decided not to take a seat on the train, figuring that 15 minutes wasn't long enough to justify taking one. But I soon regretted my decision.
Soon after we left the First Avenue stop, and headed into the tunnel, under the East River, the train came to a SCREECHING halt. We stood still for about five minutes before the conductor came on the speaker in broken speech.
"Attention... Emergency brake... Pulled... Searching train."
Apparently someone had pulled the emergency brake. And they had decided to pull it while we were under water, in a tunnel. Bastards!
Because the brake was pulled, this meant that the conductors had to leave their car and walk through the VERY CROWDED train in search of what the emergency was. They had to walk through each car and check to see who may have pulled it.
All the while, I am standing (as are many other people), without anything to occupy my mind. No book. No music. And, to top it off, I had neglected to pee before I left work to go home. So all these factors made the time pass slowly. It felt like an eternity till I was able to get off the train and get home and pee.
After that, I vowed to always have a book on me, as well as take a seat if one was available (even if I was only going a few stops). I also vowed to do what I could to ensure I never got on a train with a dire need to pee.
Comments
We get in the car and find out that there is a guy holding a boombox on his shoulder, 1992-style, with a microphone attached. It's the instrumental version of the song, and he is singing along with every line in a strong French accent. And he did the standard walk-through after, asking for tips!
In Paris, the street buskers and subway performers are much, much more creative than what I've seen anywhere in the U.S.!