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Bring me a train as fast as you can
On the radio this morning, I heard that among the CTA's proposals for increasing revenue was the possibility of selling naming rights to the el lines--like I'd take the "Motorola Line" to Howard and transfer there to the "Northwestern Memorial Hospital Line" or something. (Well, not me specifically; I'm the kind of stick-in-the-mud who will still say "Dan Ryan" for the South Side Red Line, but you get the idea.)
On the platform this morning, I waited for twenty minutes before I saw any sign of a northbound train. It was running express. The train behind it was also running express. I got on the train behind that, and we got stuck at Granville waiting for the "expresses" to get out of our way. That's when a novel idea for increasing CTA revenue occurred to me: Why don't you morons GET THE FUCKING TRAINS TO RUN ON TIME, huh?
Pablo at work suggested the delay might've been terror-related and recounted the two times this week he'd been hustled off the train--the second time out of the station entirely--while some security situation was going down. Great: Now every time some dipshit forgets a backpack on a car, all progress will be brought to a halt? They've had four years to adjust to new circumstances, they have got to get more efficient at security procedures than this if they expect to retain any riders five years from now.
But God never locks a door except that he breaks in a window (or something), right? Turns out the delay was just enough for me to arrive at the b-school at the start of break time for the constructin workers. I suddenly had a pressing need to cut past the crowd smoking out front and through the atrium where the others were relaxing. Two new additions to the bearem--one U. martimus and one U. americanus. But my favourite imagine from the trip in was seeing a man teaching a young boy to play patty-cake on an el platform. When the boy got confused, the man turned to the woman with him and they began demonstrating the proper moves while the boy watched attentively. Lovely!
On the platform this morning, I waited for twenty minutes before I saw any sign of a northbound train. It was running express. The train behind it was also running express. I got on the train behind that, and we got stuck at Granville waiting for the "expresses" to get out of our way. That's when a novel idea for increasing CTA revenue occurred to me: Why don't you morons GET THE FUCKING TRAINS TO RUN ON TIME, huh?
Pablo at work suggested the delay might've been terror-related and recounted the two times this week he'd been hustled off the train--the second time out of the station entirely--while some security situation was going down. Great: Now every time some dipshit forgets a backpack on a car, all progress will be brought to a halt? They've had four years to adjust to new circumstances, they have got to get more efficient at security procedures than this if they expect to retain any riders five years from now.
But God never locks a door except that he breaks in a window (or something), right? Turns out the delay was just enough for me to arrive at the b-school at the start of break time for the constructin workers. I suddenly had a pressing need to cut past the crowd smoking out front and through the atrium where the others were relaxing. Two new additions to the bearem--one U. martimus and one U. americanus. But my favourite imagine from the trip in was seeing a man teaching a young boy to play patty-cake on an el platform. When the boy got confused, the man turned to the woman with him and they began demonstrating the proper moves while the boy watched attentively. Lovely!
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