Commuter Contempt

On the bar, which wasn’t active, but people still boozing it up. Train stops in Stamford CT for your average train stop. Homeboy jumps out of the car lights up a smoke real quick and puffs on it like he’s going to the electric chair.

This mofo needed a smoke THAT BAD. Really? You can’t make it over 70 minutes without a smoke? You really needed to jump out of the train and puff tough just to get your fix on? Bro, check out this new stuff Nicorette. It’s fucking gum. Which means you don’t have to jump out of the car during a station stop like a complete joneser and het your nicotine fix.

Let’s just say, I like routine. So, when life throws me a curveball whereby I have to take a different train, my life is turned upside down. I know what you’re thinking, “relaaaaax, man. Go with the flow bro.” No. Fuck that shit. It sucks. When I take m usual train, I know where the door will open, I know what seats will likely be open. So when I’m forced to take a later train, I wind up with shit. A shitty seat, a shitty train, and it just fucks up my day. I know it shouldn’t, but it does. Fuck you life.

I was assaulted on the Gautrain this week. By an Afrikaans oupa from Pretoria. As I got off the train at the Sandton station, the man grabbed my arm and nearly knocked me over in his haste to get on.

Behind him, his family and a host of other commuters were pushing forward as if the Beatles had re­united and were holding one last performance right there on the train. Clearly they did not heed the “please wait until passengers disembark first” refrain that has now become a part of my daily commute.

I have been using the Gautrain for just one week but I still long for my black Terios, which has been parked in the garage, and the freedom it represented to go wherever the road would take me. But my little Terios also came loaded with stress, road rage, traffic, a hefty fuel and toll bill and carbon emissions. It had to go.

At first, I felt bad for this person. Commuting sucks, I feel your pain. But then I saw the train car she takes every day and said to myself, “shut your fucking mouth, you’re riding the Rolls Royce of iron horses lady.” Have a look for yourself. Why I aughtta… I’d get punched in the face everyday just to ride that beaut.

It’s raining. Not pouring. There is no old man snoring anywhere. But there’s a train that normally stops at the end of the platform, where the covered stairs are conveniently located, chooses to stop further down. Not a life or death situation here, just a less than desirable, somewhat wet, longer walk. You cunt.

I wonder if he was reading his own work. That egotistical bastard.

I’m trying to take a piss on a late train back from NY, after a night of drinking multiple cocktails. Why you are ever up, and not in bed reading, is beyond me. So why you are knocking on the door of the train bathroom as a joke is nothing  short of massively annoying. Listen, I don’t take it out on you, but your parents, because they suck. Those fucks are sitting outside the bathroom with you, just letting you knock on bathroom doors because you are so fucking funny. Fuck you; fuck your parents; fuck the world. Bitches.

First rule - you are the last to join the party, so you best check yourself because big dicks in your ass is bad for your health. Don’t be an asshole and think you are badass with your elbows out or some shit. No, you are a chump who needs to pick a better timed train where you don’t have to sit in the middle seat.

This one fucking guy fell asleep in the middle seat with his arms crossed. Not really a problem other than the fact that they kept hitting me. This, I can live with. What I can’t live with is how his head was turned towards me, with his mouth gaping open and his horrible breath bouncing off the side of my face. The only thing I could do was be intentionally annoying myself by hitting my arms on his elbows so he would wake up and move his head. It was very successful, for about 2-3 seconds, when his head would roll right back to venting on my face. It was a no win situation.

Oh rule number 2 - respect thy fellow passenger.

At first I was all like, it’s totally Africa. But then I looked again and was all like, it could also totally be South America. Goddamn, my commute makes me fucking crazy!

The West Australian ©

I honestly have no clue what generation I am in. I guess it would be Gen-Y. I always thought maybe I’d be in Gen-X, mostly because it sounds so damn cool, but that I was part of the Pepsi ad campaign. That was Pepsi, right? Who gives an honest fuck. Australia droppin’ knowledge.

Generation Ys now represent more than one-third of all local train and bus commuters, with numbers expected to reflect worldwide trends and continue to soar.

New 2011 figures released by the Public Transport Authority show that commuters aged between 18 and 25 now make up 35 per cent of all train users and 40 per cent of all bus users - up from 30 and 38 per cent on last year.

The increase is being partly attributed to new communication technologies and the desire by young people to “stay connected”.

“Previous generations found freedom and flexibility through the car,” Curtin University’s Professor Peter Newman said. “But Generation Ys find their freedom and flexibility by staying connected to their friends, family and workplaces through the various information devices - like their laptops, or iphones.

“They can stay connected on a bus or a train. They can bring the office with them. They can bring their study with them. They can bring their friends with them. They can’t if they’re driving.”

Fuckin’ A right I’d rather sit on the train rockin’ a smart phone or laptop. Sure, there may be tons of annoying pricks, but fuck it, I can do what I like online. The car blows, the radio more or less sucks a giant cock. Fuck having to do work to get where you need to be.

It’s the grate that goes over the fluorescent lights in the vestibules of the train I took this morning. God-DAMN. That is a ton of dust that has built up on that bitch. You are probably looking at years and years of sickness right there.

…and of course I sit down next to the lady who is eating a gloriously smelling bag of Fritos.  No joke, I’m thinking of committing an illegal act in order to get a bite of these. I’d rather go to jail than walk and buy my own bag.

Cafe cars don’t do damage. Cafe cars sell coffee and fucking baguettes and shit. Not the MTA Bar Car motherfucker.

This fucking guy has been walking up and down this train for what seems like years now, trying to sell shitty candy for $1. He blurts out some fake excuse about charity. I don’t know, but I think the chances of this being legit are slim to none. And I don’t think I’ve seen one person ever buy an item of candy ever. Which means those things must be real fucking old.

Metro NAWTH has created some unique machines to “degunk” the rails

Good ol’ Metro North couldn’t afford a proper voice over motherfucker, instead had to get Sully from the afternoon peak pack to do the vocals.

Interesting stuff. So, this whole time it’s been rails gettin’ all gunked and shit that slow my shitty commute up. Blast some sand on that shit yo! It’s 2011 and we be livin’ in the technological future bitches.

I aint hatin’. But this is one entrepreneurial bitch right here. She comes on the train and rummages through the garbages looking for cans. And guess what, she finds tons.No shortage of those fuckers on a Friday ride home. And she don’t give a fuck either. Have one sip left? Chug that shit, she needs it you bitch.