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Open letters.
Nov. 3rd, 2006 11:01 pmTo the gods of the "T",
When, oh, when did you decide that the "D" line was the bastard stepchild of the Green lines? When? And why are you happy to send five "C" line trains past me, some of them doubled, to one measly little "D" train that, "oops" doesn't fit everyone who is waiting. Some of them who have been waiting for a good twenty minutes and are falling asleep on their feet. Someone who was second in line to get on the train until some idiots without a thread of common decency decided to brush on by and not wait for people to get off, but charge on ahead themselves, making it impossible for that other someone to get on the train for which she had been patiently waiting.
Was it to teach her patience? Because, quoting all of the great minds of Project Runway, she would have gladly told you at that moment if that happened when the next train came, there would be some "serious ugly" going on, and she might even have to "cut a bitch". Then the Hynes Convention Center stop would have really turned into the Hynes "Detention" Center stop as she fondly terms it. And after a merry chase, the police would have had to drag her away from the large Will Chase in High Fidelity poster that she would have been clinging to for protection.
Thank you for being cheap, but, a few more "D" line train would go a long way in making me a happier person. One with less stress. Unless you want to drive me to an early grave.
Oh, and I have never been so manhandled once I finally got onto a "T". Thank you random drunk girls for using me as a bar to hold on to. It was the perfect ending to a fabulous "T" experience.
Yours,
me
Oh, and work was boring as all get out because I saw maybe 6-7 people in all five hours I was there. Robert was a sweetheart, though, and called me from home midway through my shift to see how I was doing. Of course, when I answered the phone, he whispered all creepy, "I'm watching you from the window" but as the library is six floors up, I told him that he must be Spiderman so I really wasn't all that worried. But it is the little things like that that make me love that job so much more than the other one. I mean, it's a Friday night, he didn't have to even think about work let alone call me.
When, oh, when did you decide that the "D" line was the bastard stepchild of the Green lines? When? And why are you happy to send five "C" line trains past me, some of them doubled, to one measly little "D" train that, "oops" doesn't fit everyone who is waiting. Some of them who have been waiting for a good twenty minutes and are falling asleep on their feet. Someone who was second in line to get on the train until some idiots without a thread of common decency decided to brush on by and not wait for people to get off, but charge on ahead themselves, making it impossible for that other someone to get on the train for which she had been patiently waiting.
Was it to teach her patience? Because, quoting all of the great minds of Project Runway, she would have gladly told you at that moment if that happened when the next train came, there would be some "serious ugly" going on, and she might even have to "cut a bitch". Then the Hynes Convention Center stop would have really turned into the Hynes "Detention" Center stop as she fondly terms it. And after a merry chase, the police would have had to drag her away from the large Will Chase in High Fidelity poster that she would have been clinging to for protection.
Thank you for being cheap, but, a few more "D" line train would go a long way in making me a happier person. One with less stress. Unless you want to drive me to an early grave.
Oh, and I have never been so manhandled once I finally got onto a "T". Thank you random drunk girls for using me as a bar to hold on to. It was the perfect ending to a fabulous "T" experience.
Yours,
me
Oh, and work was boring as all get out because I saw maybe 6-7 people in all five hours I was there. Robert was a sweetheart, though, and called me from home midway through my shift to see how I was doing. Of course, when I answered the phone, he whispered all creepy, "I'm watching you from the window" but as the library is six floors up, I told him that he must be Spiderman so I really wasn't all that worried. But it is the little things like that that make me love that job so much more than the other one. I mean, it's a Friday night, he didn't have to even think about work let alone call me.
