Pleasantly Surprised

Yesterday on my break, I took a walk down to Faneuil Hall. They were setting up for the President’s speech and everything was blocked off and people started to fill in on the steps near Government Center. I thought to myself that if the President’s speech was going to end around the time I was leaving work, then I’d be so screwed getting through a packed in crowd to the train or be stuck with the crowd on the T. Either way, equally screwed.  

I went back to work and decided not to worry about it. I’d figure it out.

Just before I leave, I get an email from MBTA. They say that the Orange line is stopped both ways due to the motorcade. Now I know I have to walk through the Faneuil Hall mess.

I pack up my things and get another email from MBTA stating that the Orange line is back up and running. I decide against taking the train since it has been stopped for 10 minutes and the backup of people waiting for the T has got to be insane. I decide to walk anyway.

As I approach Faneuil Hall, the crowd is dispersed. Everyone seems to be walking in the same direction as I am AND they are walking at a decent pace!! The police kept everyone moving and I actually got to North Station 5 whole minutes before I usually do. I was delightfully surprised!

So, nice job to the polices, Obama speech watchers and the World Series spectators.

AND Also…. GO SOX!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Be Grateful You Turd! This is Nothing!

This morning I hop on at North Station. The T is packed to the brim when it arrives and only two people get off. A lady in front of me gets on, I get on and one guy behind me packs his way on too. He yells “This sucks!”

I felt like saying “You think this sucks? At least you are on the train and don’t have to wait 9 minutes until the next one like the others stuck on the platform.”

OR

“You are hopping on a train during rush hour from North Station. What did you think was going to happen? You’d hop on, have ample room and even get a seat… NO!”

OR

“Today is the World Series AND Obama is making a speech today. This is a walk in the park. You just wait ‘til later you turd!”

BUUUT I kept my mouth shut and rolled my eyes along with the woman that got on in front of me.

That being said, let’s see if I can keep my mouth shut and just roll my eyes later when I have to deal with Obama Speech watchers and World Series spectators. Let’s see how this goes later. Wish me luck!

Would the Real Slim Shady Please Stand Up?

Welcome to my Tuesday. This morning, I make my coffee before running out the door. I throw my cream and sugar in and head down to the garage. On my way, I take a sip of my coffee and discover that I am drinking hot water, cream and sugar. I realize that I forgot to put a K-cup in my Keurig.

As I am trying not to gag, I run back upstairs to remake my coffee. Luckily I wasn’t running too far behind this morning and the Keurig was already warmed up. Once I have my coffee the way I like it…with coffee in it, I run to my car and fly over to the train station. I am very grateful that I took a sip prior to arriving at the train because to take that sip on the train and not be able to fix it, would have completely ruined my morning.

Once I am at the train station and because I cut it so close to boarding time, the scrolling screen is flashing “Please Stand Back. Please Stand Back.” SOO, what gets stuck in my head for the remainder of my commute?

'Cause I'm Slim Shady, yes I'm the real Shady
All you other Slim Shadies are just imitating
So won't the real Slim Shady please stand up,
Please stand up, please stand up…..

Hello Monday

Oh Monday! How lovely to see you again.

OK, maybe not. Today as I get on the sardine packed T, I briefly glance over to see this rat tail of a thing in my face. I jump because it’s just nasty! Upon closer inspection, it’s a guy’s goatee that is about a foot long and it is secured with a dozen or so hair elastics all the way down. All I can think about is how nasty it is and how it just HAS to be infested with bugs or some sh*t and it is right by my head.

Then, we get to Haymarket and people need to get off. So, I hop off so they can get off as I am in their way. Do you think the Weeble in front of the door moves? NO! She makes a feeble attempt at sucking in her belly so she doesn’t lose her spot on the train. Meanwhile, stick figure me hops off to allow a 6 foot, broad shouldered man off. He was not happy having to get by the Weeble and I believe he “accidentally-on purpose” smacked her in the arm with his work bag. Oopsy!

We pile back on the train and head to State. The doors open up and I hear the wonderful…I mean like nails on a chalk board…sound of this woman playing the recorder! Yup! The recorder! That instrument you had to play in music class to pacify your music teacher that you could in fact apply musical notes to an instrument.

So, there you have it: My Monday morning back to work. Lovely.

The World Series

For the last two days the World Series has been in town. Oh Joy! While I am excited the Sox have another shot at the title, the tourists that it brings just throws wrenches in my commute.

Wednesday- I got out of work early. I had ample time to make the early train. I hopped on the T which seemed generally roomie when I got on. I was psyched. I totally was taking the early train. Then…we get off at North Station. I don’t even know why these people were in North Station. They were going the wrong way. Fenway is in the other direction. However, they were head to toe in Sox gear sooo, my suspicions of them being World Series spectators is most likely correct.

Anyway, they all get on the escalator and just stand there. They don’t even leave the “left lane” open for me to pass. Then, we get to the top and they all disperse making it impossible to weave. None of them know where they are going. They are blinded by the guy selling T-shirts, the cool train sign, the ticket machines. They are also just looking around, wide eyes and “bushy tailed”. I mean… it’s JUST a T Station people, GET MOVING!

We finally head down the hall way and they kind of move over so I can pass. However, there is oncoming foot traffic so once again, can’t pass. It is now 5:08pm and I have two minutes to catch the train which is usually ok but with these people moving at the pace of snails, it might not work.

I get to the stairs and escalator. I head up the stairs because most people hop on the escalator. Do you think people took the escalator like I predicted? NOPE! They walk 3 wide up the steps and now I have to walk like a snail up the steps. I finally get to the top and try to high tail it out the door and into North Station. NOT happening. These people are confused. Is this the entrance to the Garden or the Station…So, they stop dead and don’t open the doors and now there is a pile up. I finally push my way through the crowd. “It’s BOTH!” I scream at the head to toe dressed Red Sox fan…I felt like saying “It’s both! AND by the way… Sometimes, less is more!” BUUT held that last part in.

They look at me like I am a b*tch and maybe my tone was a little b*tchy but if you’re gonna be in the city, get thicker skin! Maybe if you had thicker skin, you wouldn’t need all that Sox shwag hanging off of you. Just sayin’!

I finally get in to North Station and look at the screen. 5:09 ALL ABOARD! I pick up the pace but it is IMPOSSIBLE to run! They are just all mulling about staring at the ceiling probably looking for the beer garden. I finally get on the platform after I cut through the crowd and as I do, the train pulls away. I am not the only one. There were several pissed off commuters on the platform. In fact, they were still running. Like the train was gonna stop?! Ya right!

So, needless to say, I am glad the tourists are gone and my commute is back to normal. I only pray that the next two games, the Sox win so they only have to come back to Boston for one more game! I wish this because A. Obviously I want the Sox to win and B. I would rather not have to deal with World Series fans saturating the sidewalks, halls and corridors of my commute for longer than it's absolutely necessary.

GO SOX!!!!!

Inside, Outside, Outside, Inside

So, Miss Fancy Spandex Pants has a friend and this friend wears… Indoor-Outdoor slippers on the train! OK people! Just because it says it on the label that the slippers are Indoor-Outdoor slippers, doesn’t mean you get to wear them… OUTSIDE! It’s just wrong!

I got a pair of indoor-outdoor slippers for my dad for Christmas once and I verbally reminded him that just because the box said he could wear them outside that it didn’t make it right for him to wear them outside. Not even a trip to the mail box because if he went to the mail box with the slippers on and then realized he needed to go to the store and hopped in his car with said slippers on, he’d be THAT guy walking around the store with slippers on!

Perhaps this is the reason I avoid Wal-Mart at all costs. I don’t think I have set foot in a Wal-Mart in MONTHS! I can’t stand walking into that store and being the one with the jaw dropped with my inner voice screaming “You are in your pajamas! Florescent fleece is not a good look for you! Florescent fleece is NOT slimming! Do you OWN a full length mirror?”

So, that being said, florescent fleece AND slippers stay inside unless you want “What Not To Wear” to come back on TV and use you as an example of the “not to wear”!

You Want My Choke?

Photo Courtesy of KeepCalmOMatic

So, this morning, I get on the train and sit next to this woman that is just passed out against the window. I sit down and discover that she has this overwhelming smell of Dollar Store air freshener, laundry soap and/or drier sheet. Ya know that awful smell that's supposed to smell like sunshine but doesn't.

Well, since it's a three seater, I don't have to sit next to her right away. However, I am asked politely to slide in and i do.

As we are heading over the bridge to North Station, this over scented woman jerks back into conciousness and with that, karate chops me right in the neck which makes me choke on my coffee.

As my niece would say "You want MYYY Choke?!"

Happy Monday Everyone!

I Wanted to B*tch Slap This Girl

I ALMOST slapped a b*tch today.

I get on at my stop and find a seat on the end of a three seater. The middle seat was open. I put my purse and bag on my lap and scroll through my phone as we continue on to the next stop. We get to Anderson-Woburn and this girl gets on and says to me as I am scrolling through my very important Facebook feed “MOVE OVER!”

She didn’t say “Can you move over please?” She just demanded that I “Move over!”

I survey her shoes. Boat shoes! UM, I am pretty sure everyone has taken their boats out of the water this past weekend so boat shoes…officially out of season.

I look up and see her stupid mousey nose with her stupid mousey lips and just envision her nibbling on a stupid piece of cheese.

Have I mentioned I haven’t taken ONE sip of my coffee yet and I have been up since 4am because my husband’s alarm went off at that time so he could go to an early meeting?

I do my best to smile and move over.

For those of you, like her that do not know commuter etiquette, this is how this should have gone down:

Mousey-Boat Shoe Girl- “Can I sit there?” While she is pointing to the middle seat.

Me- “Sure.” But instead of getting up to give her the middle, I slide in and take the middle myself.

Mousey-Boat Shoe Girl- Act pleasantly surprised that I have given you the coveted end seat while saying “Thank you!”

Me- “No problem.”

See, simple as that and no one gets b*tch slapped or judged on their out of season boat shoes.

New Favorite Conductor at 29....Again

I have a new favorite conductor. This morning, as I get on the train I say good morning to the conductor as I do every morning. It’s helpful to be nice and I do see them every day so it only seems right.

I sit down in my seat and have my ticket ready. When he comes by he asks me my name since I do talk to him every day. I tell him and he says “Wow! That will be easy to remember. That’s my daughter’s name!” He then goes on to tell me that she looks very much like me. Same skin tone, similar hair. He then says “How old are you?”

I have to think about it for a second since I now turn 29 every year. “Thirty-One.” I say to him.

“I was WAY OFF! WAAAAY OFF!! I was going to guess you were younger than my daughter and she is 26.”

Did I mention I have a new favorite conductor?!

Just Sitting with My Box of Tampons- Totally Normal!

Last night I went to Shecky’s girls night out. I try to go every time they are in town. In previous years, the goodie bag was worth its weight in gold. I loved it. As the years went on, I have noticed that the goodie bags have been getting a little lack luster.

I get to Shecky’s and go to pick up my goodie bag (always the first thing to do, as in years past, they ran out even though your entry fee included a goodie bag). After getting my goodie bag I notice that the vendors are vacant. I take this opportunity to get up-close and actually see what the vendors have. I end up leaving with a new purse and a necklace.

While I am perusing, a vendor says to me “What a fun goodie bag. I am not gonna need tampons for like a month.” I brush it off like “Oh, you just told me you were from Maine so yay for tampons you crazy! Who the heck cares about tampons?” I smiled at her and told her I hadn’t checked out my goodie bag. PS, I am f*cked if my “inner voice” ever becomes my “outer voice”.

I leave and walk over to the green line and head toward North Station. Since I have several stops, I decide that I’d go through my goodie bag. Usually it’s hair care, nail care, beauty products so I didn’t see anything wrong with it. Now, this is a somewhat packed train. I was lucky enough to grab a seat but there are several people standing over me.

What’s the first thing I whip out? An entire box of tampons! Do you think I could get it back in the bag? No! When I pulled that box, everything in the bag toppled in so I couldn’t get it back in without it being blatantly obvious while hanging out the top. Now, I am on the T, flailing a box of tampons around like an idiot and everyone is looking at me. Hey, they could even have tweeted about it. Who knows?!

I see there is a book inside. I grab the book, throw the box of tampons in my goodie bag throw the book on top. I notice the cover. It’s the SAME book as I got in my goodie bag last time. NOW, not only am I disappointed with my tampons, I am disappointed in the book too. Bummed! Not only was I bummed out about the first two items I saw, I had to wait until I got home to find out what the rest of my things were.

So, Note to self: Don’t open packages on the train in which you have no idea what could come out of it.

To Put it in Your Mouth or Not?

The other day, my train friends and I sat at the end cap where several seats face each other. We continued our conversation and others joined in. One guy in particular who joined in looked like a construction worker with his lunch box and his hard hat and a cigarette tucked behind his ear.

When we pulled in to Anderson-Woburn, he looks around and says “What stop is this?” We answered “Anderson-Woburn”

“Ahh, what line is this?” in a more panicked voice.

“Lowell.” We answer.

He starts collecting his things rather frantically and darts off the train. In doing so, his cigarette falls from his ear and onto the ground. We all look at it. He’s gone so we just let it sit there.

He then flies back in the train says “I dropped my cigarette. I’ll need this.” Probably referring to the fact that he now had to wait for a train to get him at Anderson, bring him to North Station and then catch his proper train.

I pondered it for a second. He was going to put that in his mouth. It sat on the floor of the train…in fact not just the floor, the aisle where everyone’s feet had just trampled all over. Everyone who walked the city sidewalks through puddles, poop, dirt, throw up. You name it, someone walked through it.

So, here is my question: Would you put that in your mouth? If it was a Milk Dud or a Junior Mint or an unlicked lolly pop, would you put those in your mouth?

Watch Out For The Drunk Guy

The other day on my way back to the office from the RMV, I hopped on the T at Chinatown. While I was waiting, I noticed a guy in his casual Friday-Cape-Cod-Attire. The train station was pretty vacant so he wasn’t hard to miss as he was one of the few people waiting with me.

The train comes and I hop on. I find a seat and sit down and he sits across from me with a book. Of course I sit down next to a drunk guy who’s half in the wrapper.

“I tink yo’-ah boo-tee-ful.” The drunk says to me.

“What?” I say instinctively.

“I think you’re boo-teee-ful.” He says again.

“Thank you.” I say and try to keep it at that.

“Yo’ hay-ah ish pretty.” He says.

“What?” I say trying to make out his works.

“Your hair ish pretty.” He repeats himself but this time he is reaching out to touch my hair but stops just shy of touching it after I give him a look.

The guy in Cape-Cod Attire is peering over his book.

“Thanks!” I say and return to staring at the floor.

“Way-ah you go to shh-coooool?” he asks.

First of all I’m flatter because I am well beyond college age. At this time we are approaching Down Town Crossing and the guy is situating his stuff to get ready to get off the T. However, the Cape-Cod Attire guy thinks he is coming at me. He slams his book and stands up. The drunk guys slowly stands and holds on to the pole so he doesn’t fall. Guy in Cape Cod Attire sits down.

We stop at DTX and the drunk guy gets off.

“I just don’t know. I didn’t get a good feeling about him.” Cape-Cod- Attire guy says to me.

“Neither did I! I couldn’t understand a word he said.” I reply thankful that he was looking out for me. Especially since I didn’t have my pepper spray since I wasn’t approved because the damn RMV forgot the A in my first name.

I Loathe the RMV!

Oh… the RMV! How I loathe thee! I got married over a year ago. I have been to the RMV nine or so times. You read this correctly. NINE TIMES in that last year to change my name. They made me jump through hoops. They needed a copy of my NEW signature from my bank. Sent me to the bank. Came back, they wanted another document signed and notorized because my vehicle came from New Hampshire and in order not to pay tax, I needed the dealer to OK! it. Came back. Then sent on another wild goose chase for some other cockamamie piece of paper NO ONE HAS! Came back. I wanted to keep my signature because it’s basically a squiggle. That wasn’t good enough. I needed to CHANGE my squiggle.

At this point, I was wondering where the cameras were. Was I on boiling point I mean REALLY!?   I honestly was starting to think that they were just doing this to f*ck with me or have something to talk about during lunch.

The lady takes my picture so that when I came back with my ridiculous paperwork, I could be in and out. In order to take the pictures, she has to store it under my name…which at that time, to them, was my maiden name. I have to sign it and she says to sign my maiden name.

I leave and come back with the documents they want. MEAN WHILE, they haven’t asked for anything the website says to bring. Now that I am back, they want to see all of that. They start plugging things into the system when they realize that my proof of address is not in my NEW name. It’s in my maiden name so that won’t work as proof of address.

I am sent to the bank so they can prove that I live at my house. Since I changed my name there AND my signature, I should be all set. WELL, the bank says that I signed up for e-statements so I have to print them all off myself.  I have a meltdown telling them they have no idea what the RMV is doing to me. They print off my documents and notarize them for good measure.

I go back. They have me read the little eye exam thing, I fail! That’s when I lose it “Are you F*CKING KIDDING ME?!” I scream. Everyone looks at me. She whispers “Just promise me you’ll go get glasses.” I agree and she prints my ID.

My husband, thankfully had been with me throughout most of this. I walk out and he’s like “Let’s see this new ID” He looks at it. IT’S MY MAIDEN NAME!!!!!!!!!

I march back in there and cut the line. The lady reprints my ID.

Months later I get a call. They didn’t register my car properly and until I go and fix the paperwork, the bank that holds the loan on my car could take it away from me.

I leave work and march to the RMV. The RMV looks up the info and tells me that whomever called me was scamming me into signing my car over to them by giving me a false address. (OK! They did their job that day!)

Months later, I apply for a pepper spray permit. I go to the police station and fill out all the paper work and do the finger prints. It should have been processed by the end of September. I call the first day of October to see the progress and am informed that the name I filled my paperwork out with and the name on the registry aren’t matching. The RMV left off the A in my first name! How did I not notice this? Well, because I was focusing on the last name and not the first.

I had to march on in there today and get it squared away. I waited 2 hours just to be seen! FOR THEIR MISTAKE!

I went to the RMV by my office. When I finally got to the counter, I was told that I really should have gone to the RMV where the mistake was made. I plead with her and she finally gives in. She fixes my ID and now I have a snazzy black and white temp again and have to wait for my new plastic one to arrive in the mail.

I am really glad this is squared away and really hope I never ever have to go back there!!!!!

Complaints of a Commuter Girl

This morning, I board the train and select a seat. I sit down and get situated on an aisle seat. I look up to see a woman knitting on one of the end cap seats facing me. She is wearing a skirt and her legs are spread eagle. What the heck lady! Close your legs. I don’t care if that is where your yarns path is, close ‘em up! I don’t care if you have tights on either. PLUS, it’s going to be almost 80 today. Who the heck wears tights on a day that’s going to be so nice out? I sure as hell didn’t. I am not wasting a tights day on today. I hate those things!!

Next, let’s talk about that smell…you know that smell, when all the winter sweaters come out from storage. MOTH BALLS! COME ON! Wash your damn clothes before you wear them after they come out of storage. NO ONE likes the smell of moth balls and now it’s near me on the train for my entire commute. BLECH! Gross!

Next, smokers. Jesus! You don’t smell pleasant! I don’t know how you sit with yourself all day. This guy that no-word-of-a-lie smells like a damn ash tray likes to sit near me. I try VERY hard to steer clear from him but somehow or another, he sits near me way too often. Carry some Febreze in your bag and a compact bottle of Listerine. PS, it’s 7 in the morning. How on earth do you already smell like an ash tray?

So, what did we learn today? Let’s recap:

·         Close your damn legs.

·         Don’t wear tights/nylons on days that will reach 80.

·         Wash your clothes after they have spent half a year with moth balls.

·         If you chose to smell like an ashtray, spray yourself with Febreze and swish with Listerine.

It’s very easy people. VERY EASY!