E-kvetching
I'm pretty sure this didn't happen to you on your evening commute. (Why do so many of my blog entries start out this way?)
I've been through some pretty strange situations in the last year. I once was riding down the an Alaskan peninsula on a motorcycle following a woman on a Harley who gave birth to me, who I had met only a few days previous. I once found myself in Paris locked out of my hotel room at 4:30 in the morning. I once found myself in a German bar getting kicked out by the Polizei. I once found myself nearly freezing to death waiting 25 minutes in subzero temperatures in a Long Island Railroad station. I think this entry is right up there.
And have you ever had a moment where you were so stressed you just couldn't do anything? You just stare forward into space because if you look at anything, you'll have to deal with it and you just might go postal? Yeah, that happened to me tonight.
So, as I had done four times previously, at 5:00 PM on Friday, I walked one block to Embarcadero station to catch BART out to Richmond, where I'd transfer to the train to up to Sacramento. (For those who didn't know, my Project Management class is in Sac, because they didn't offer it in SF until after I graduate. Besides, it was only 5 full Saturdays, and the train ride give me time to work on homework.) I walk down and read the signs. "8 CAR RICHMOND TRAIN... 17 MIN" 17 minutes? Now I had been down there in plenty of time. And the trains to Richmond run about every 10 minutes during rush hour. Oh this is not good. I'll miss the train if it's that late.
So I get the idea to take the Pittsburg/Bay Point train to Oakland, then transfer the Dublin-Richmond train. And I do. A few minutes later, one comes and I hop on it. I get off at Oakland. "6 CAR RICHMOND TRAIN... 14 minutes" 14 minutes? Oh Jesus. Are all the Richmond trains late? (Yes, actually.) 300,000 people take BART every day, so when this happens at rush hour, it's not good. Mind you, I love BART. It's consistently rated the #1 transit system in America. (This in stark contrast to Muni, which my coworker, who is from Guatemala, a third world country, doesn't think Muni is much better here.) So in 14 minutes I get on this 6 car train (it's from the less used suburb-to-suburb line). Each stop is painful. The cars are so full, you think fist fights are going to break out. It was bad. Real bad. Can't people just get on less crowded cars? Wait until the next one? (Eventually the hella-delayed train was right behind us.) It makes the train later and later and later.
So I finally make it to Richmond. There's no chance in hell I make it. And it's over an hour til the next one. I figure, well I was gonna grab dinner in Sac, I might as well do it here. There's nothing in Richmond, so I get back on BART and go one stop back to El Cerrito. Not much to pick from, McD's, Jack in the Box, Church's Chicken, Pizza Hut. I pick Church's Chicken. So I get my order, sit down and some homeless guy walks in. Shortly after, the BART police walk in. They ask him to step outside. (I have no freakin' clue what this guy did other than smell.) But I'm sure the guy's hungry, and he already paid. He goes just ballistic. If he's hungry, and these police are harassing him, I'd probably have a fit too. But at this point, I don't really care. I'm stressed out of my mind, I have two papers to write, a quiz to do, three chapters to read, a final to do tomorrow, I barely dodge fist fights, I missed my train, I'm in the middle of god-why-in-the-hell-else-would-I-be-here El Cerrito eating at god-why-in-the-hell-else-would-I-eat-here Church's Chicken with the police harassing some homeless guy who just wants a hot meal. And thus, I just stare off.
But this is how I vent. I blog. :-) I finish up, tack another event up to the intricate tapestry that is my life, assume that somewhere, someone only wishes their life could be so exciting, go back up to Richmond, hop the train, and write. Whew. I feel so much better now. :-)
I've been through some pretty strange situations in the last year. I once was riding down the an Alaskan peninsula on a motorcycle following a woman on a Harley who gave birth to me, who I had met only a few days previous. I once found myself in Paris locked out of my hotel room at 4:30 in the morning. I once found myself in a German bar getting kicked out by the Polizei. I once found myself nearly freezing to death waiting 25 minutes in subzero temperatures in a Long Island Railroad station. I think this entry is right up there.
And have you ever had a moment where you were so stressed you just couldn't do anything? You just stare forward into space because if you look at anything, you'll have to deal with it and you just might go postal? Yeah, that happened to me tonight.
So, as I had done four times previously, at 5:00 PM on Friday, I walked one block to Embarcadero station to catch BART out to Richmond, where I'd transfer to the train to up to Sacramento. (For those who didn't know, my Project Management class is in Sac, because they didn't offer it in SF until after I graduate. Besides, it was only 5 full Saturdays, and the train ride give me time to work on homework.) I walk down and read the signs. "8 CAR RICHMOND TRAIN... 17 MIN" 17 minutes? Now I had been down there in plenty of time. And the trains to Richmond run about every 10 minutes during rush hour. Oh this is not good. I'll miss the train if it's that late.
So I get the idea to take the Pittsburg/Bay Point train to Oakland, then transfer the Dublin-Richmond train. And I do. A few minutes later, one comes and I hop on it. I get off at Oakland. "6 CAR RICHMOND TRAIN... 14 minutes" 14 minutes? Oh Jesus. Are all the Richmond trains late? (Yes, actually.) 300,000 people take BART every day, so when this happens at rush hour, it's not good. Mind you, I love BART. It's consistently rated the #1 transit system in America. (This in stark contrast to Muni, which my coworker, who is from Guatemala, a third world country, doesn't think Muni is much better here.) So in 14 minutes I get on this 6 car train (it's from the less used suburb-to-suburb line). Each stop is painful. The cars are so full, you think fist fights are going to break out. It was bad. Real bad. Can't people just get on less crowded cars? Wait until the next one? (Eventually the hella-delayed train was right behind us.) It makes the train later and later and later.
So I finally make it to Richmond. There's no chance in hell I make it. And it's over an hour til the next one. I figure, well I was gonna grab dinner in Sac, I might as well do it here. There's nothing in Richmond, so I get back on BART and go one stop back to El Cerrito. Not much to pick from, McD's, Jack in the Box, Church's Chicken, Pizza Hut. I pick Church's Chicken. So I get my order, sit down and some homeless guy walks in. Shortly after, the BART police walk in. They ask him to step outside. (I have no freakin' clue what this guy did other than smell.) But I'm sure the guy's hungry, and he already paid. He goes just ballistic. If he's hungry, and these police are harassing him, I'd probably have a fit too. But at this point, I don't really care. I'm stressed out of my mind, I have two papers to write, a quiz to do, three chapters to read, a final to do tomorrow, I barely dodge fist fights, I missed my train, I'm in the middle of god-why-in-the-hell-else-would-I-be-here El Cerrito eating at god-why-in-the-hell-else-would-I-eat-here Church's Chicken with the police harassing some homeless guy who just wants a hot meal. And thus, I just stare off.
But this is how I vent. I blog. :-) I finish up, tack another event up to the intricate tapestry that is my life, assume that somewhere, someone only wishes their life could be so exciting, go back up to Richmond, hop the train, and write. Whew. I feel so much better now. :-)
posted by Joe Carlin at 4:45 AM
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