There's Always One.

Last night, an apparent electrical short caused the train a few stops behind mine to go up in flames. Luckily, no passengers were onboard, and firefighters were able to put out the fire after the track electricity was turned off. Obviously, this caused major delays.

When my train actually arrived, the conductor stuck his head out to look at our large group standing on the platform and shouted back into the car “Raise your hand if you’re getting off at this stop.” He looked back out at us and said “Ok, I think we can fit all of you.” We crammed in there like sardines. I, for one, was stuck standing in a crowd of men that were about 6-foot and above, so needless to say, I had a lot of armpit in my face. In spite of the situation, most people were jovial, friendly and tolerant.

The conductor was very kind and felt bad for us and said “I’m really sorry for all of this folks. I know it was uncomfortable. I hope you have a nice night.”

The woman next to me screams out: “You stupid idiot! You are treating us like animals. We pay a lot of money to ride this train. You are a stupid idiot, and I cannot believe you did this to us! You can go to hell!”

There’s always at least one asshole in a crowd, isn’t there?

Which is Worse?

Which is worse?

1. The elderly woman sitting right next to me who reeks of wet cigarette butts and real butts

OR

2. The young girl sitting across from me singing at the top of her lungs to her ipod like she’s trying out for American Idol

Public Transit Rider Anthropology 101: The Early Riser

It is important when riding public transit to know what you are up against, namely, who is sitting next to you so you can be prepared. Public Transit Rider Anthropology 101 will be a series that chronicles these fellow riders.

Let's meet the Early Riser. No friends, this is not the guy or gal on the first train into the city, but the one that is compelled to get to the door first.

I like to believe it is common practice that just before one gets up for their stop there is that final email check (read: game of Angry Birds) or car/house key check but for the Early Riser those seconds are what dreams are made of.

Take for instance this morning, as I was on the train approaching a station heading into the city. I make the appropriate “Is this next stop yours?” head gesture to my seat buddy. “Nope, I’m the next stop.” Good, a few more precious seconds to check my email.

Negative.


No sooner did the train start moving to next station did I get the tap to get up. Are. you. serious?

Yes, friends meet my seat buddy, The Early Riser.

-Submitted by Guest Blogger Wit V

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Conductor

This morning, half my train broke down in between Center City and West Philly. The conductor came through and asked us all to switch cars because they were disconnecting ours. People started getting all riled up and the conductor shouted, “Ok then, you can also just sit in this broke-down car all day!” and turned to me specifically and said “What in the hell is wrong with people?” Exactly.

She was far kinder than the conductor I encountered on Tuesday. Because it had snowed, all the express trains turned into local trains. When I got to 69th Street, four trains pulled up within 30 seconds of each other. I asked one of the conductors, “Excuse me, but which of these trains will be leaving first?” He said, “I’m pretty sure you were standing right here when they all pulled up. Which one did you see arrive first?” I pointed up at the train in front of me. “Riiiight. So, logic tells us that this one will leave first,” he condescendingly snipped back at me. I just put on a giant smile and said “Gee mister, thanks for the information.”

Chicken Bone Appetite Suppressant

I didn't eat dinner before class, so by 9:30 p.m. I was pretty hungry. I get on the train and the floor is covered in gnarled chicken wing bones. A young skateboarder dude sits down and inadvertently starts stepping on them, dragging BBQ sauce all over the floor. I immediately lost my appetite.

The Fate of a Floor Newspaper

I took the 6:30 a.m. train, an hour earlier than my normal train. A tall, middle-aged man in a large brown jacket got on the train. He reached down in front of me under the seat, grabbed a filthy, stepped-on newspaper off the floor, and sat down behind me. Gross, yes, but I figure that he's just really eager to read the morning paper. Wrong.

He begins tearing up the newspaper piece by piece. He then starts hocking up lougies and spitting them into the pieces of newspaper. I have no idea what he did with those used pieces of newspaper, and I don't want to. I am glad that those lougies didn't wind up on the back of my head.

You Can't Make This $hit Up.

Welcome to Off the Beaten Track, the support group for commuters using Greater Philadelphia's public transportation system. Some stories will be witty, some disgusting, some shocking and some just downright ridiculous.

Our motto: You can't make this $hit up.