Lady, what died in your bag?

On my waysmartSh from my annual physical, I decided to pop into my beloved b.good to grab something to go.

I got a side order of the roasted veggies (broccolini, kale. tomatoes and carrots) 'cuz I'm never close to the recommended amount.  Corn on the cob has been my go-to "veggie" lately.  Plus, I just left the doctor's office!

Without thinking about it, I put the paper bag in my purse and head out to catch the train.  When I get to South Station, I find all of Boston standing on the platform.  I'm rarely on the T during rush hour, so I'd forgotten how crazy busy it gets.

For the last 20 minutes I've been imagining what folks might be thinking:  "How can this somewhat put together lady be stinking up this train? She's got a smart phone, so I'm sure she can afford deodorant.  Damn!"

And they should be thankful I said no to the sprinkling of parmesan cheese the young lady at the restaurant offered me.

When nature calls

Minutes after leaving the house earlier today I felt like doing the pee pee dance.  I was on the bus and couldn't go back home, since I needed to make the train to make it to Braintree on time.  I then remembered that there's a bathroom at Ashmont station.

This is the same dance I do whenever I make the healthy decision to increase my water intake.  It's the same dance that plays a role in convincing me by day 3 to return to the state of dehydration I'm usually in; it's less problematic.

Before heading to the platform at Ashmont,  I asked the only employee of the MBTA if I could use the bathroom.  He told me he didn't have a key to the women's bathroom.  So I asked if I could use the men's.  He told me, "No, it's against the law."  I told him I've used the men's bathroom many times.  (Okay,  so I've done so about six times in my life. Usually at a gay club,  where sometimes it was hard to tell  there was a difference.  But never at this T station, something I didn't need to make clear to him.)

So in a snarky "It's not like I'm busy doing anything else,  I'm just being an ass" way, he said, "Just because you've done it doesn't mean it's right."

When I got to North Quincy,  I was in the middle of my recital.  I asked if there was a bathroom and one of two MBTA employees pointed it out.   Relief!!!

I snapped a picture of the sign outside the bathroom door.   The other MBTA employee asked if I had a problem.   I told him what had happened with his coworker at the other station.   He didn't have much to say except that sometimes "they're" rude.   I expressed my appreciation to him for his colleagues' willingness to give up their bathroom for the public use.  (Probably as a way to appease riders before raising fares!)

Made it to my destination on time, where I immediately used the bathroom upon arrival.

So now I'm wondering, is it illegal to use another gender's bathroom? Didn't find anything that answered the question online.

The other thoughts that crossed my mind:  would they have fined me if I'd peed on the train or bus?  Or would they have sent a message alerting riders about a delayed train because of a sick passenger?

Of course!!!!

For the last couple of months, I've been pretty lucky. I've had access to a car with really no strings attached. The owner of the car is serving our country in the Middle East. It's usually a weekend thing that can extend to sometime midweek when I return the car to the owner's sister. I drive it cautiously, always fearful that something might happen since I'm not fully insured to drive it.

After a doctor's appointment on Friday afternoon, I thought I'd take advantage of having the car and grab dinner somewhere not easily accessible by the T. So I grabbed my phone to navigate my adventure through the GPS. All of a sudden, my phone had died. I'd been buying time with the thing ever since I'd clumsily flipped it into a cup of water about a week before. I had the routine down: take out the battery, give it a couple of seconds, place it back in and it would start up again. Just like the patient coming back to life when using a defibrillator and someone says "Clear!" At that point, I felt a little anxious about driving without a GPS in Boston at night in a car I really shouldn't be in. So I picked something up and drove my butt home. Luckily, I've been paying extra for some protection plan on the phone that covers water damage. Only problem is that when I submitted the claim online over the weekend, there was some glitch and I have to call the company. Of course!!!! From which phone, duh?!

This morning, I decided to take a mental health day from work. This afternoon, I decided to do the first thing to make myself a legal driver in Massachusetts. More for sentimental reasons, I haven't wanted to give up the one material thing that makes me a Texan - my driver's license. And I don't wanna paying the freaking $100 to switch my license. On my way to the RMV, the car felt like it was dragging something. I pulled over and, there it was, the front left tire was totally flat! I got back in the car, grabbed the iPad work and "Yelped" for a flat tire repair shop. Only three minutes away! By now the sound was more of a grinding. As I turned down the street to the shop, I noticed the RMV was on the same corner. When the gentleman greeted me he told me the tire was ruined and that the emissions sticker is expired - since JULY! Of course!!!! I told him it wasn't my car and that I was on my way to the RMV to make myself legal when I heard the grinding.

I decided to walk over and accomplish what I'd set out to do when I left my apartment. Monday afternoon at 3p is apparently the best time to come in - no waiting. I gave the clerk my passport, my TX driver's license and a letter with my current address. When she went to do my eye test, I couldn't see clearly! Of course!!!! Today's day 13 of wearing this pair - I pop in a fresh set tomorrow. Then she got me. First of all, the document proving my residency was over 60 days old! And then she discovered I have a state ID which is a big no-no! I didn't say a damn thing and happily surrendered it when she asked me for it. I left there with a reject letter that she nicely said I can present when I come back and not have to wait in line. Like it's a prize, like being voted Miss Congeniality...

I walked back to the body shop where Jim told me it'll be a little over $200 for the tire and the sticker. When the gentleman offered to give me a ride to the T station, I thought I was special. Turns out they go there all the time. Still, it was nice. I decided to head to my favorite Mexican food restaurant and have a beer with dinner. From there, I attended a meeting at the library where the MBTA presented the future capital investment projects. A couple of commuters made comments about their experiences riding the T. I was the only person that gave them kudos, prefacing my comments by stating that I'd made the choice to be car-free when I moved to the east coast four years ago.

At the end of the day, I think I'll hold on to my little piece of Texas a bit longer. And damn, my hair looked cute for the picture today. Of course!!!!

Why I ride

Every once in a while, I get that feeling that I'm gonna break down and get a car.  The other night I had an experience that reminded me why I ride.

I stayed at work much later than the normal folks.  One of the security officers came by when he noticed the light on and asked when I'd plan on leaving.  I told him I'd probably take a cab to the train station since the shuttle had stopped running for the evening.  He offered to give me a ride when I was ready and I took him up on it.  My brother would not be happy with me because this was a man I'd only waved to twice before and now I was riding in a car with him.   I was so tired that I didn't even text his name, make, model and license plate number of his car to friends, as I've done at least three times in the past.  David, I made it safely and thanked him profusely for saving me the $10 cab fare.

When we arrived at the train station, there was a bus idling. I wasn't sure what route it took, but knew that it would get me home faster than the 90-minute train ride.  In a snap, I decided to pay the extra $3.50 fare and jumped on board.  This is where the adventure begins...

I asked the driver if she went directly into Boston or if she stopped along the route.  With what sounded like a little attitude, she asked me if I'd ever ridden the route.  I thought, "that's not what I asked you".  But I was tired so i just sat my fat ass down.  Again I asked if she went directly into Boston and she told me where the route ended.  So off we went.  Within three minutes, I discovered why she didn't answer.  This was the first time she'd ever driven the route and she DIDN'T KNOW the route!!!  She was hoping that I'd be able to help her navigate.  When she missed the exit from the MassPike, I showed her a suggested route from the GPS on my phone.  For a moment I thought, "Since you don't know the route, why not just use my GPS to get me home since I'm the only passenger on here."  But then I realized it wasn't all about me.  What about other passengers that might be waiting along this "mystery'' route.  Then all of a sudden, something looked familiar to me.  So I told her where to turn, and lo and behold, there was a passenger waiting at the stop!

The passenger that got on didn't know how to use the fare machine.  More importantly, she couldn't even identify what coins she had in her hand!  Mind you, she was completely sighted.  Figuring that the driver had her own issues to deal with, I got up and helped the young lady pay the fare and pointed out that the coins were quarters.  She had bills in her hand and, in Mami-style, told her to put the money away.

I noticed that she was not a native English speaker, so I asked her where she was from originally.  She asked me to guess, and somehow I did correctly.  You'd think I told her she'd won the lottery when I shared two phrases Papi taught us us after his year in Korea 40 years ago.  As usual, I got the juice in less than 15 minutes:  She arrived three days previous for a three-month stay to learn English.  She was heading into Boston to meet a colleague.  She wasn't familiar with the MBTA, didn't know it doesn't run all night like NYC and didn't know how to find the Boston Common once we got off the bus.

Those of you that know me, know how the story ends.  When we got off the bus, I walked with her to the Common, made sure she found her friend, showed her the entrance to Park Street station where I suggested she get bus schedules and add money to the Charlie Card without everyone seeing how much cash she had.  I gave her my card and told her to call if she needed anything.  She hugged and thanked me about 12 times and asked how much longer it would take for me to get home.  I fibbed and said it would be about 10 minutes.  In the end, the entire commute was almost two hours.

How a ride turned in an opportunity to pay it forward = why I ride...

Ewe, I'm a herdee!

This past week I became an expert herdee. Never heard of a herdee?

From Tuesday morning, I was one of thousands of riders on the green line to Riverside that was shuttled from the train to a bus and back on the train every morning and night for four days on my commute to work. It turns out that the 48 hours of steady rain caused the dirt under the tracks to disappear, creating a sink hole. The pictures just showed a set of tracks with nothing under them. Scary to think that a train could've been passing and derailed.

The first time I did the 1-2-1 routine it was kind of fun; I got to see new areas that were unfamiliar to me because I'm never in a car or bus in those neighborhoods.

It was only three train stops that were closed off but it got tedious very quickly. Unload from the train quickly, follow the mob scene up the stairs to the awaiting buses driven by folks that had just signed up that morning to collect the overtime (familiarity with the route not required), go around collecting other "stranded souls", make your way down the ramp at the station where the track had not been affected and make the trek to one of the last three stations on the line.

By day three, I was ready to scream. Or walk to the Applebee's near one of the stops and have a drink or two. Thank God it wasn't opened at 8:30 in the morning!

At each of the 1-2-1 points there were at least five MBTA employees "guiding" us through the process. Yeah, right!

Guide is probably the verb used early Tuesday morning when the MBTA officials disseminated the plan to the hordes of employees raking in the OT. In reality what these folks did was watch as the one or two shepherds herded the ewes and sheep to the next step in the process.

It's just water

Last weekend, Mother Nature decided to bless the Boston area with two days of showers. The end result reminded me of Storm 2006 in El Paso.

I set out on Monday morning with my family-of-four-sized umbrella and my cheetah print rain boots. A light drizzle fell throughout the day, but occasionally it would pour. When I arrived at the train station at the end of the day, the MBTA was using buses to shuttle us from the station. The employees from that station that rode along with us appeared to have been sworn to secrecy when I asked what had happened. We then proceeded to go to each station along the route and pick up every other person that was supposed to be riding the train.

Within minutes, the bus was filled with other anxious, wet commuters. So I settled in my seat for the most odoriferous 45-minute ride I hope to ever experience. The scent made me think of what it must smell like in the staging area at the annual Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show in Madison Square Garden: wet dog.

getting my fix

On October 16th, I arrived in Boston to start a new job. I spend a lot of time on the T since my commute to work is at least an hour-and-a-half long. My experiences on the commute from the Bronx to Manhattan is what I miss the most.

On Valentine's Day weekend, I rode the mega bus to Penn Station to get my fix. We arrived at Penn Station at around 1:30 a.m. When I got on the 2 to make my trek uptown, the train was packed like it is during the middle of the day. A large majority of the folks riding were under the influence. As I got on, I immediately noticed a guy that was sitting in the corner seat closest to the door, bent over with his head between his legs. I didn't see his face but saw the "baba" pooling on the floor of the train. I remember the day when I would've wanted to get off the train at that point. Instead, I smiled and thought to myself, "Yes, I'm home!"