idiots

Your children should not be my problem

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What is it with you morons and your children? Why do you insist on making your children my problem? Why are strollers and children even permitted on rush hour trains?

The other day, (matinee Wednesday of course) , there was a family who was obviously on a day trip. Two kids, in two strollers, on track 16, boarding the 5:23, not good. The brood was also accompanied by two very large bags, which appeared to be larger than their children. Why bother with the strollers if you have bags that large? Just toss the kids in the bags…that’s for another post. The children appeared to be between 2 and 2 and half years old.

I am sitting in one of the seats in the “back” section, where the pulldowns are. The “family” passes me, moving towards the yard. I breathe a sigh of relief. Maybe they will go in another car and leave us alone. A minute passes, and they appear again, walking in the other direction, staring into the windows. This is not good. They are looking into the car I’m in.

Of course, they get on. Or at least they try to get on. There were already people standing in vestibule. The woman loudly announces her intention to get on, as if they poor guy already standing there has committed a crime by being there. “EXCUSE ME SIR!”, she says. He grumbles and steps out so she can get on with her husband (why are they always silent) and the two kiddies, the strollers, and the bags.

Now they have entered. There were two people sitting at the pulldowns, one on each side of the car. The woman proceeds to give them the death stare until they notice her…..

The Ghost Conductor Strikes Again

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This morning, I was reminded once again why the Fail Road employees are government employees. Apparently, it’s too hard for the conductors to say “tickets please” as they walk through the cars.

This morning, I’m standing in my usual spot in the vestibule, reading the paper. I was not yapping into a cell phone or hypnotized by a Crackberry or spaced out from an iPod. As I am reading, I see someone staring at me from the reflection of the glass in the door. Does he say “tickets please”? No. He still stares. So, I don’t move. I’m waiting for government employee ignoramus to say something. After about a minute, I turn towards the center of the car and show Mr. Funny Hat my ticket. He walks away.

Is it that hard to say “tickets please” as you are walking through the car? Maybe it needs to be written into their Union contracts. You’d think they’d want to check tickets as fast as they could so they could rush back into their little cubby holes and hide.

Lazy bastards. Would saying something be too physically taxing?

The train car as dressing room

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Hey assholes…the train car is not your fucking dressing room. There is no reason why you should block the aisles because you need to button your massive coat or pile on the layers and the scarf and the hat.

It gets cold here, but it’s not the fucking arctic circle.

Keep your coat on in the train, put your scarf in your briefcase or take it off and hold it. Put your gloves in your pocket.

There’s no need to block people. The train aisle is not a fucking runway or dressing room. Nobody cares about you. AND GET THE FUCK OUTTA MY WAY. You know who you are.

The Fail Road Is Clueless (Again)….

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Once again, the morons that run the Fail Road prove that they are utterly clueless about the needs of their customers. In their infinite wisdom, they have decided to make Martin Luther King, Jr. Day a “holiday” and run trains on a modified holiday schedule. This means that instead of the regular weekday schedule, I will have to get on the 6:50 am train. The next train will be at 8:50am.

What the fuck? That is total bullshit.

Besides the fact that it’s a regular workday for me, it is also a regular workday for hundreds of thousands of others. Why would the Fail Road run on such a schedule for MLK day? Last time I checked, the employees get enough time off. Let them earn their money. Does the Fail Road think because there’s a holiday that everything just shuts down?

The reason why the Fail Road did this is because they are fucking clueless. And, I bet is has something to do with the fucking unions and their bullshit rules regarding days off and other garbage. With all the benefits the employees are fucking us up the ass for (which are extorted via “negotiations”) I would think they days off that are received in a private entity should be forfeited. All days off except the “major” holidays such as New Year’s Day, July 4h, Labor Day, Memorial Day, Christmas and Thanksgiving. They should do this because they WORK FOR THE PUBLIC. And, as such, they should be available to SERVE THE PUBLIC.

Once again, we hard working Fail Road riders have been shat upon. Send emails and complaints to the LIRR. Let them know how wrong they are. They work for US goddamnit.

This is us, the Fail Road rider, shit upon once again:

Open the %&#$& Doors You Morons!

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This morning, at Jamaica, I got off the train to transfer to the one to Penn. I step off, walk across the platform and wait for the 7:45. It rolls in, stops and we wait. I love when this happens. The doors didn’t open for four minutes. FOUR FUCKING MINUTES.

What were the conductors doing during this time? Were they hiding in their little cubby holes from us? Why does this always happen? Is it so fucking hard to OPEN THE FUCKING DOORS when the FUCKING TRAIN HAS STOPPED?

This happens at Jamaica, it happens at Penn….it happens all over the fucking place. What the hell is going on? I don’t want to hear that “it’s only a few minutes”….Yeah, it’s only a few minutes, but it’s not about the fucking time. It’s about how we’re standing on the fucking platform like assholes waiting for the fucking doors to open. But wait, they’re not opening because some asshole WHO WORKS FOR US doesn’t give a shit about their job.

Enough of this shit already. Next time the fucking doors don’t open, I’m gonna show my ticket later. Let the fucking conductor wait. They made me wait to get it. So now, they can fucking wait to see my ticket.

How can crutches drive?

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Enough already. Enough of this bullshit. All you have to do is be “disabled” and all the rules are thrown out the window.

If you take the Fail Road, you already know that a woman (disabled) drove her car onto the tracks at the Roslyn Ave. crossing in Mineola. The train then hit her car, but not before an off duty NYPD cop and off duty firefighter pulled her to safety. The woman (who is disabled) had her car ruined. Over 25,000 people were inconvenienced. And, she complained that she wasn’t able to get her pocketbook. I’ll spare you the rest of the details.

What the fuck is going on here? The woman (disabled) is pissed off because the two Samaritans who pulled her to safety wouldn’t let her get her fucking POCKETBOOK before the train tossed her fucking Buick like it was a toy. If I was her, I’d kiss their asses for saving her life. Then, I’d apologize to the thousands of people who she made late. Then, she should thank God himself because she’s still alive and she wasn’t scattered along Roslyn Road.

Also, as you may have noticed, I referred to this woman as (disabled). Apparently all the news outlets have decided that the fact that this woman was disabled has contributed to this incident. The woman needed the aid of crutches to help her walk. This (apparently) also contributed to her not being able to exit the vehicle. It also had something to do with her driving onto the tracks. Someone please tell me how this is possible? What does her being “disabled” have to do with her having her head so far up her ass she not only almost got herself killed, but inconvenienced thousands. Never mind the fact that her little “mistake” could have caused a derailment that could have hurt hundreds and caused who knows how much damage.

It’s people like this woman that should not be allowed to have a license. In fact, elect me, and I’ll make sure they’re not even permitted in public.

Can someone please explain to me how crutches can drive?

Friday’s Crap…

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Not a good day on the Fail Road. There are no good days on the Fail Road, but this one was one of the worst in the last month. Let’s start from this morning and work our way to the afternoon.

This morning, I had to take the 7:36, which goes directly to Penn. Not bad, right? Single seat, all the way in…Wrong. I could have taken the 7:17, but I was held up by some gardener’s truck down my block that couldn’t figure out how to make a fucking 3-point turn. I could have turned around, but by the time I got down the block and made a left onto the avenue…I would have been late.

I finally get past the truck when I’m once again stonewalled by the beloved school buses I wrote about the other day. By this time it’s already 7:15 and I know I’m gonna be late. So, I just say “Fuck it…just get to the damn station”.

I get to the station around 7:17. I park in the lot…I wait for a little bit because they don’t open the doors of the train until 7:25 some days. I get to the platform around 7:20…the train is ready, waiting, BEGGING for us to take a seat so it can get on with its only duty in life, to transport us, the riding public. But wait! The doors are closed. The lights on the side of the train are flashing…someone is doing a brake test! Oh shit! I look at the guy next to me, he says “Brake test”….I say…”we’re gonna be late”, he nods. These are probably the same nods exchanged between prisoners against a wall preparing for death by firing squad. Then, we hear an announcement…”The 7:36 to Penn Station stopping at *bla bla bla*…will be operating with fewer cars today, please move to the center of the platform to board”….Fewer cars? We see eight! Let us on!

Finally, we see a Fail Road member, in a hoodie…laughing merrily along the platform. Definitely a crew member, paid by the hour…gotta love those Unions, eh? Someone asks him the obvious, “Is the train cancelled?”…we hear “In a minute!”…Yeah…will we know the train’s status in a minute? Will you answer us in a minute? Do you not give a shit?

Then, the rear two cars get unhooked and are pushed farther down to the end of the track. The remaining six cars are inched up more and go through more “brake tests”. Finally, it’s about 7:
It’s now about 7:30. Still more brake tests. Finally! The doors open! But no explanation as to why the short train.

We get on. We sit there until about 7:42. Are we waiting for any passing trains? What the fuck are we waiting for? No answers, nothing. At least we left.

Since this was a 6 car (6 fucking car) train direct train to Penn, it was crowded by the time we picked up the Westwood passengers. By the time we got to Jamaica, it was like a sardine can. We got to Jamaica late (what else to expect?). We finally arrive at Penn around 8:37 instead of 8:29. No, “sorry we’re late” announcements. I finally arrive at the office around 8:50 (once I negotiated the Pedestrian Spam of 7th Avenue)….

And this was only the morning.

I left on the 4:19, a double-decker (see left). It goes to Port Jeff…change at Jamaica for home. The fun begins at Penn. I see suitcases! Big ones! Rolling ones! Big ones being pulled by small people! Shit! The next thing I know, there’s some Indian woman blathering away on her cellphone and she drags this 1000lb. rolling case into the train. Keep in mind from Penn to Jamaica I usually stand in a vestibule because a) I can’t be bothered to fight for a seat, I’ll leave that to the rest of the idiots, and b) the seats are uncomfortable…I’ve been sitting all day anyway, I’ll stretch my legs. So, this woman parks her rolling case right in the middle of the vestibule. If anyone was coming up the steps or into the train, they would have fallen over this case. Also, the damn thing is blocking me because her goddamn cell phone conversation is so fucking interesting, I am invisible. I look at her as to say, “move the goddamn case, it’s in the way and not in a good spot”…she ignores me. Oh well. She’s still talking on the phone and making funny faces and waving down to the lower level where her kid and husband are sitting. Nice.

Then, more people came on with even bigger bags (and tried to stuff them into the overheads). I wish I had a camera. You fucking morons! Please, please Fail Road, BAN THESE LARGE SUITCASES FROM THE TRAIN OR FORCE PEOPLE WHO BRING THEM ON TO PAY A “PENALTY”. They are dangerous, take up space and have no place on a train. If your case is bigger than you…..YOU NEED TO BRING LESS SHIT AND YOU NEED TO CALL A CAB, IT DOESN’T BELONG ON A FUCKING TRAIN.

We finally get to Jamaica and I change for the train home. It’s supposed to arrive at 5:06…it arrives at 5:13. Late again. No announcement, no apology. This train has been late the last 5 times I have taken it. I take it about once every two weeks. Sometimes less.

Why can’t the Fail Road just get it right? Just once? Just get it right, please?

Thanks Fail Road. And thanks to the assholes who ride it, bring in your furniture next time. Have a great weekend.
My time wasted by the Fail Road this week, 45 minutes….

Unhappy…

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If you read this, you must be thinking that I am constantly pissed off. That is not entirely true. At times, I am always pissed off. Most of the time, I just tolerate things. There’s not much I can do. If I did, there would be a long line of victims in my wake.

Sometimes people tell me to be “happy”. I am “happy”. My idea of “happy” is different from most people. For me to be truly happy, everything would have to stop being such a goddamn ordeal. Inconsequential things like driving to the train station, the trip on the train, the idiots I have to deal with on the train, the Lead Footed Pedestrian Spam of 7th Avenue…little things like that. That’s all I ask. Do you jobs, shut up, and get out of my way. Is that too much to ask?

I try not to be too “happy” anyway. If you’re happy for too long, you’re only setting yourself for the inevitable disappointment. It’s better not to expect too much. All you get is shit anyway. Once in a while when things actually make sense and work out in your favor, it’s a nice surprise. But, don’t let that go to your head because someone, somewhere will fuck it all up all over again.

Now, I am “happy”. I’m getting ready to watch a hockey game (it’s a Devils game but it’s better than nothing. The real hockey team in New York, the Rangers, are on tomorrow). And, C.S.I.: New York is on later. How much better can it get? Sure enough, tomorrow morning will be upon us and I’ll have to take out the shovel once again and deal with the garbage the day thrusts upon me.