FUBARed on the LIRR

The BBQ Pit
1

The Long Island Rail Road makes this just about as stupid-proof as possible. We just keep importing new and improved stupid.

I refer to the train that leaves every single weekday from Penn Station’s Track 15 at precisely 5:22 PM. I can count on one hand the number of times in the past year that this train has boarded on another track or has left the station notably late. The train is in the same spot pretty much every day. Its schedule does not change and neither do the stops.

With approximately the same regularity, the conductor on said train makes at least half a dozen announcements before we leave about where the train stops. She is very careful to vary her language and to communicate the urgency of the message with every announcement, and she gets across to anyone with the brains that the Flying Spaghetti Monster gave to a bowl of limp noodles that the train makes only five stops. She also conveys that these happen to be the stops that are at the very end of the Ronkonkoma branch. (Wyandanch, Deer Park, Brentwood, Central Islip and Ronkonkoma). She also lets it be known in no uncertain terms that if you’re looking to get off at one of the other popular stops, such as Jamaica or Hicksville, you are on the wrong train and you ought to get off before you are hopelessly, irretrievably fucked.

You see, what happens if you get stuck on this train is that you’ll ride for 50 minutes out into the Long Island boonies. Then you’ll get off at Wyandanch and wait for quite some time before another train comes in the opposite direction to take you back to Penn Station. After waiting for a while, you’ll jump on that train and ride for close to another hour before you get back to where you started from - and then get on the RIGHT FUCKING TRAIN.

Of course, you see where I’m heading with this. Despite the repeated announcements, despite the flashing marquee signs listing the stops both on the platform and on the train itself, and despite the conductor going out of her way to tell people where the train DOESN’T stop, there’s always at least one complete biscuithead.

At 5:21 and 55 seconds, said biscuithead figures out he’s on the wrong train. As the warning bells sound for the closing doors, he clambers over two seat-mates, barrels down the aisle and fights his way through the vestibule, smacking everybody along the way with a too-heavy backpack designed for camping but adapted to carry a Macbook and a few miscellaneous manila folders full of shit.

At this point, one of two things will happen:

  1. He makes it off the train Hooray! Now the rest of the passengers can fight over his seat while rubbing their bruises from the backpack impact and muttering “What an asshole…” under their collective breath. Or,

  2. He doesn’t make it off the train. Fuck. Now it’s Anything Can Happen Day because no one likes to be held in a metal box hurtling at 65 MPH while they contemplate how they just wasted at least two hours of their life. The range of reaction to this is astonishing. Just about everyone claims to have not heard the announcements, but from there it’s anybody’s guess as to what will be said to try to convince the conductor to do something.

[ol]
[li]There was the guy who claimed to work for a law firm (despite being dressed in khakis, Birkenstocks and a polo shirt) who seriously started to attempt to make an argument that his continued presence on the train constituted unlawful imprisonment.[/li][li]There was the woman who played the “if I don’t get home in time to pick up my kids…” card. And won. (They made a special exception for her, stopped the train at Jamaica and let her off, along with several others who evidently made the same mistake.)[/li][li]There was the hippy kid who threw a full-on temper tantrum that made the rest of the train wonder if Supernanny was heading over from the next car. (They made a special stop for him, too. Cops were waiting for him on the platform.)[/li][/ol]

Never once does anyone ever say, “Wow. I fucked up. Should’ve taken the iPod out of my ears for a second.” Instead, several times a month, the rest of the train gets to witness the most wonderful and colorful adult temper tantrums since that dude in that traffic video.

And we all get to sit there and wonder while we’re captive in our train car… How long will the tantrum last? Will they make an extra stop to let this loony out? How much time will that cost us? Will it be a quick 2-minute stop? Or will we have to sit there on the platform until the cops get there? Should I call my wife and let her know I might be late? Can I hold back from smacking this fucktard across the car for expecting special treatment for his screwup? Maybe I’ll play Monopoly on my iPod to distract myself.

Screwups are screwups, and that’s one thing. But what really makes me want to go ballistic is this notion that everybody who erroneously jumps on this train and suddenly realizes their mistake thinks that they’re somehow special and they shouldn’t have to live with the consequences. They think it’s okay to make the rest of the train late, as long as their own travel plans aren’t FUBARed.

Grrr…

2

I used to ride one that originated at Hunter’s Point (not Penn Station) and it did make the stop in Jamaica and that’s where the Stupid would get on. Next stop: “Greenlawn”, roughly the same longitude as Wyandanch on your branch, except that the Port Jeff branch is divided at the previous stop, Huntington. Lots of trains only go as far as (or originate at) Huntington because it’s electrified that far out. Getting out at Greenlawn means (or meant back then at any rate) waiting (as long as an hour) for the first westbound diesel which during off-peak would take you only the one stop to Huntington where you’d have to switch to an electric. Which would then proceed to stop at every single stop you’d flown past on the nonstop express getting out there.
I guess it could be worse. A couple of those Montauk express trains don’t stop for breath until they’re out past the freaking Hamptons.

3

This reminds me of the person who got on the Metro North train to Croton Harmon, and wanted the train to Croton Falls. Unfortunately for them, there’s no stop in the middle that will save them, outside of 125th street, and they had no idea they were on the wrong line until they got out at Croton Harmon and asked if this was Croton Falls. We said, no, that’s way across the county, call for a very expensive cab ride, or take a train back to Grand Central.

Yes, they were dumb, but Metro North really shouldn’t name two stations on different lines such similar names, and this mistake cost them pretty dearly.

4

People often do say “Wow. I fucked up. Should’ve taken the iPod out of my ears for a second.” You just don’t notice, because unless you recognize the sad look or the forlorn sigh, it’s not noticeable when it happens to some people.

A three-year LIRR commuter myself, I have been on the wrong train leaving Penn one time. (Due to a track change that went unnoticed by me.)
I sighed, and rode it to the first stop (Hicksville) then waited for the westbound train to take me to my stop. It sucked, but it was no one’s fault but my own. I should have taken the ipod out of my ears for a second.

Actually, I should have looked at the signs.

5

There was a story in Australia a couple of weeks ago about people who found themselves taken by bus from Sydney to Brisbane instead of to Gosford. That is, a trip of about 80 km turned into a trip of over 900 km – and they still had to make their way back to Gosford.

6

I’ve encountered his sister on a WMATA Metrobus. Yes, a bus; she felt the driver was being too slow in unlocking the back door.

7

Off to catch the 5:22 and witness today’s tantrum.

Toodles…

8

I think they should make a special stop.

Then get them off, Gord-style.

(Very similar to Al Bundy style)

9

Sounds like a much better entertainment value than one of them Broadway shows.

10

Well, what would you call a station that serves the Harmon area of the Village of Croton-on-Hudson, and Croton Falls? Name one of them “Fred”?

11

The northern terminus of the electrified portion of Metro-North’s Harlem Valley line used to be called Brewster North, because it was one stop north of Brewster. Makes sense, right?

Well, now it’s called Southeast. So you take the train due north from Manhattan, all the way to Southeast.

Moral of the story: railroad people aren’t always good at naming things.

[sub]The actual reason is that the station is located in the dumbly named village of Southeast, NY, and some insecure ninnies there got annoyed by the station being called Brewster North.[/sub]

12

Gord as in “Acts of”? The guy who tried to physically throw an asshole out of his store door, and “accidentally” threw him into the wall the first time? Yes, definitely.

Ah, so you do experience some satisfaction from a few of these idjits. Good.

13

Let 'em jump out the back, like D.C. Cooper.

14

Damn, D. B. Cooper… I knew that didn’t sound right…

15

As I recall, Southeast is in the southeast corner of Duchess County (somebody verify this for me, please), so the name makes sense. (Besides, if you called it Terminus, people would go there looking for the Foundation.)

16

My dad went through that station every weekday for four years.

Southeast is really the town, making Brewster a village.

Was the southeast corner of Dutchess until 1812, when Putnam was split off.

17

Perhaps they should add a “Stupid Stop”. That’s where they go to the next stop and only let people get off.

18

I’d love to see this unfold, if for no other reason than to watch the MTA and the riders sharpen their claws and go after one another.

First, the MTA would cite a bunch of statistics after studying the problem. They would spend six figures on a consultant to come in and find out how many people get on the wrong trains and spend hours going to places they never intended to go. This would be immediately followed up by a seven-figure ad campaign featuring train ads, color leaflets left on seats, outdoor ads at the station, local morning drive radio and audio announcements on the platform. The tagline will be something cute like “Don’t be a pain. Get on the right train.” The voiceovers will be done by Billy Joel or some other washed-up Long Islander with high recognition scores.

Six months later, the consultant will come back and, for a fee slightly exceeding $500,000, come to the conclusion that the “Don’t Be A Pain” campaign didn’t work. He’ll cite a 20% rise in “incidents involving destinations other than the intended one.” No one will notice that it was five people in January and six people in February.

Then the MTA would introduce Stupid Stops. They’d give it a nice rider-centric name like “The Oops Stop” or something official-sounding like “Destination Modification Station.” Cue another seven-figure ad campaign.

Then they’d start public hearings for an immediate 20% fare increase to pay for it all.

The riders would go ballistic, come to the public hearing and listen to the consultant for a while. For an incremental fee of $50,000 (his day rate), he’ll present a flip-chart of his findings concerning Stupid Stops and the utter failure of the “Don’t Be A Pain” campaign.

The riders will bitch incessantly, then get the MTA to “settle” for a 10% increase, because 10% is less than 20%.

And that is how Stupid Stops would cost me $40 a month.

19

Ok, different question: how do I become the consultant?

20

BWAHAHAHA Well done, THespos!