They do. Unless you’ve got a bus driver who thinks it’s perfectly alright to attempt to reach highway speeds between frequent stops on city streets. :eek:
Yeah, but dropping the butt to the ground and crushing it out just isn’t badass.
I’m getting nothing but “Hillary 2008” links.
Reading this, I’m amazed at how good I usually have it. Things can get insanely crowded, but people are generally polite and sensible. Even friendly. And some of them smell wonderful.
Having said that, the backpack thing bugs me. So do steps sitters. And loud cellphone users. Or the obnoxious woman last summer who did all three simultaneously. It is a testament to the general politeness of the average commuter that she wasn’t kicked in the back many, many times. Or maybe it’s just that no one had legs long enough to reach over her ginormous backback.
I also Pit mental midgets who abandon open and half empty soda bottles.
Heh, last ‘express route’ I heard of signaled ahead to the traffic lights so they’d change, allowing the bus to spend less time at the lights.
(Somewhat predictably, it got into an accident on its first day of service)
Wow. Your buses actually follow a schedule? That’s amazing.
I believe we in Chicago in theory have a schedule, but that doesn’t even slightly reflect reality and if it does, it’s only coincidentally.
In Toronto, if the buses are supposed to show up more frequently than every ten minutes, they just put ‘FS’ on the schedules, and do not list a time.
I’ve started sometimes picking up one piece of non-nasty litter when I leave a bus or streetcar or subway car. I figure at least I can be a force for good, especially after the ill-considered decision to remove garbage bins from the platforms out of fear that they might have bombs placed in them. That decision led to a much messier subway system.
That’s a great idea. I think I’ll start doing that.
There was a piece in the Reader a few months ago about how you know you’re a native Chicagoan, and one of the “You’ve experienced one or more of the below” items was about public transit. The one item I remember was: you’ve waited half an hour for a bus only to be greeted by two buses hot on each other’s tail. :mad:
The 171 bus in Hyde Park regularly pissed me off. Buses that run every half-hour have no excuse to be late, especially local buses where traffic is not an issue.
And don’t even get me started on the El. I waited 20 minutes for a freakin’ northbound Red Line train at Belmont on a Friday night, while two southbound trains whizzed merrily by.
I havn’t had a burrito in two years, and I can honestly say I would have eaten it.
I’ve seen as many as four on each other’s tail during the winter. I used to take the CTA to high school every day, and it seemed invariably that I would be waiting a half hour as I watched three or four buses pass me going in the other direction, before mine (usually bunched with a second or even third bus) came.
edit: I just noticed you commenting on that phenomenon with the El. Supposedly, the CTA is going to install some sort of timer that will tell you when the next train will arrive. I honestly don’t get why it’s so damn hard to figure this out. I could sort of understand the bus (but not really–I’ve lived in high traffic cities where the buses seem to follow the schedule pretty well), but the El doesn’t really have any excuse for not running on a set schedule.
There used to be a woman on my morning commute who always smelled of curry. Not a stale food smell, but a keen, fresh whiff of spices. It must have permeated her clothes. I would intentionally sit next to her.
I’ll trade ya. Curry Lady for Pee Lady. I’ll even throw in Crack Addict and Crazy Old Man Who Talks to Himself. 
That sounds like a really good deal. Would consider accept Gaggle of Cute College Girls in that trade?
I’ve ridden public transit in Jamaica. I’m talking a 12 passenger van with 16 people in it going to work, to market etc. In 90 degree weather. Everyone was nice and polite to each other, and seemed to be having a good time. I was self conscious about my deodorant, because everyone else seemed like they’d just stepped out of the shower.
Anyone want a Guy Huffing Solvent? There’s only the one, but it’s easy to confuse him with Lady Drying Nails when you first enter the car.
(I started to feel dizzy and went to the next car after starting on what looked to be a cross-town voyage with Lady Drying Nails. It was only a two-stop journey with Guy Huffing Solvent, so I didn’t have time to get dizzy.)
Special to the bus driver: I’m on. We’re already late. No further stops will be required until we reach my destination.
Amen! It’s like, what, did Scottie beam you down without warning? Note to anyone who travels to NYC: If you’re at the fare gate in the subway, and you’re rummaging for your Metrocard, and you hear, behind you, soto voce, “[Sigh.] Jesus. Fucking. Christ! What the fuck?!”? That would be me. Please move out of the fucking way so that those of us who have a clue about how to use the goddamn subway system can get on with our lives. Not that we’re in a hurry to get to our sucky jobs and our sucky co-workers, but stuck in line behind you at the fare gate ain’t that much more fun. And we don’t get paid for it.
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Oh, yeah. A few months ago, I had the dubious pleasure of watching some dude *make *–not only eat, but actually make–a sandwich on the downtown #2 train! I kid you not. Just when I thought that I’d seen it all. And don’t get me started on the time this dude engaged in his full on hair-grooming routine on the subway. I mean, hell, he had the gel and everything! I’m telling you–dude was going to town! And then he was doing that thing that some guys do where they fuss with their hair to make it stand up in random places. And he seemed completely oblivious to the fact that several of us were giving him our “What the hell is wrong with you, fool?!” looks.
Oh, good, so it’s not just me. I can’t even tell you what I think ought to be done to these assholes, it’s not appropriate even for the Pit. And didja ever notice that those conversations, when you can actually make out the words from the end, are about noting but utter bullshit? Well, maybe to the walnut brains that use them, it’s Really Deep Shit, but the rest of us know better. And I really want to smack the bus drivers who let this stuff happen. I mean, it has to annoy them, too! It drove me crazy when I was driving an interstate bus, which is why I had to occasionally ensure that passengers knew that I could–and would–put them off/call the state troopers without batting an eyelid. Yeah, I sometimes got attitude from the less-evolved who didn’t like my rules, but in the end? Problem. Solved.
I swear to god, one day I’m going to suffer some spinal injury because of one of these assholes. When it gets really bad, I just push back against the offending bag, Pardon me, all that jerking of the train.
Oh, the countless times I’ve changed cars because of this. And the funny thing is, sometimes the fucking brats will throw eyes of daggers my way once they realize that I’ve moved away from them instead of simply getting off. As if my changing cars has called attention to their degenerate behavior. Yeah, bitches, suck it. Or, better yet, just STFU, and people won’t avoid you like the plague.
Please kindly speak for yo’self, sir.
Aw, c’mon–you know that *somebody * had to do it! 
Well, since most routes only have one bus per hour, they’re usually not all that late. But by “read a schedule” what I meant was “look at the route and map information to see what bus number takes you where you want to go”. Don’t just stand at any random bus stop (again, one which generally has the information you need posted on the sign) and when any bus stops, hold up the driver for 10 minutes while he tries to get it through your thick skull that “no, you are not even close to the route that goes there, you can transfer by getting on this bus, or walk to X Street and catch it there etc”. Upon which you repeat your brain dead questions of “so, this doesn’t go to the university?” Lather, rinse, repeat…Meanwhile the commuters on board are thinking up creative ways to bring about your demise, after all, no jury would convict us!