Here is a delightfully terrible, poor quality image from my cell phone camera of my friend Fernella in front of one of the train schedule displays in White Plains. The displays are pretty nice, and incredibly useful. There are several of these spread throughout the train station, which list in order the trains arriving and what time. In the main ticket area, there is a train station display, which lists all the stations on the Harlem Line, and what time the next train that will stop at that station will arrive. I think I like these boards better than Grand Central… but that might be me just being all bitter about the old Solari flip signs being gone. I liked those.

Like I said though, incredibly useful. Except for when they are not working properly. This doesn’t happen often. In the seven months that I have been a regular commuter, I can recall only two times the displays were not working properly. Today the display just happened to not refresh, and was showing all the old early afternoon trains, and not the current trains. The one previous time it malfunctioned, it showed all the early afternoon trains, but instead of saying that they were “on time” it said they were all delayed.

Not realizing at the time the board was malfunctioning, I was sort of like “Holy shit! Are all the trains broken?! What is going on?! I must figure out why all the trains are delayed!” It seemed completely logical for me to call up MTA’s little info line on my cell, and if there was some sort of issue that lovely computerized machine would know what was going on. So I grab my phone, and I dial 1-800-MTA-INFO. Right?

WRONG. MTA’s phone number is NOT that. It is apparently 1-800-METRO-INFO. Does anyone know the story behind this? Because I am certainly not the only one to get this wrong, several websites list this as the proper number. Either way, I know it was certainly not right, when I heard on the other line…

Hey there sexy gentleman…

Yeah, definitely not the MTA.

I tend to think that the media uses a bit too much fear mongering… especially with this whole Swine Flu thing. In case I just happen to die from the swine flu, remember those as my last words. :D

Anyways, here are some great pictures I took today of someone who may be a little bit too afraid… everybody panic!

Alright, it wasn’t just “someone” … it was a coworker, but even still, it is pretty funny. This is the guy I wrote about before who has the phobia of pigeons… so of course I had to tell him that it would be just his luck to not get swine flu, but bird flu.

I’ll definitely start to laugh the day that other employees here start wearing masks… again, I do think there is a little bit too much panic going on… our company has even introduced some new “operating rules” due to swine flu:

Business travel to and from Mexico is prohibited.

No visitors are from Mexico are to be received by any ******** employee. Any such meetings are to be conducted by video conference or other such means.

Personal travel to and from Mexico is discouraged. Any employees who have or will be traveling to Mexico may not report back to work until a seven day quarantine period has passed after their return.

My prediction however, is that the second person to die in the United States from Swine flu, will not be a person that actually has the illness. The person will sneeze while riding public transportation, and will be beaten to death by panicking passengers.

The other day I caught sight of the amusing radio repairman that I dubbed Bob in a previous entry… he was carrying a plate of food, and thankfully didn’t get into any awkward conversations with anyone. He did get up and go to the little conductor vestibule, and got on his hands and knees and looked under the door, and through the window in order to see if anyone was in there. Alas, nobody was. He returned to his seat, shouted out “Mount Kisco!” for no apparent reason a few times, and then got off the train.

Here are a bunch of other random memories that have come to mind recently… some are new and some are old!

While eating lunch at a place across the street from the Valhalla train station, I heard a trio of blondes get into a very heated discussion about dog food.
“You can’t buy your dog Kibbles and Bits, it is BAD!”
“What do you mean, BAD?”
“It is just bad, Iams is better. You get it from the pet store.”
“But why is Iams better?”
“Well, the lady said that giving your dog Kibbles and Bits, is like eating at MCDONALD’S every day! It is FAST FOOD for dogs!”
“Oh, well I wish they would write that on the label then!”

I also kind of hate to admit it, but there are often some “racist incidents” that happen on the train. While walking to the Brewster train station, I stood in the crosswalk waiting for the cars to go by. It is starting to get warmer, so people have their windows down… and the man shouted out the window at me, “I’ll only stop for you because you’re a white girl!” If you’ve ever been to Brewster, you might have an idea of why this disgruntled man made this comment.

A recent article I read talks about convicts traveling by Greyhound bus. I’ve certainly commented about that in this blog. Greyhound feigns ignorance, but I could have told them that ages ago after taking a 30 day cross country trip via Greyhound. Many people talked about being in prison, leaving prison, etc. Now if it were me, I wouldn’t be telling a bunch of random people on the bus about being a felon or anything like that. So you must imagine for each person that told everyone about their criminal past, there might have been quite a few others keeping their mouths shut!

Don’t get lost in Boston. The cops you might ask for directions from aren’t the most helpful. While traveling with several other girls, we were looking for a place on Channel St. The policeman we asked made it a point to inform us that we were stupid girls and that we were looking for “CHANNEL and not CHANEL.” Yes, because Chanel is ALL we think about.

Coming down the steps from the platform this morning at White Plains, I saw some rather odd guy running around wrapped in a white bed comforter… hmm, is it nappy time? Perhaps another homeless guy I don’t recall seeing before… but it did look like it was a nice comforter… almost like the down one I have on my own bed. Hmm…

In other news, there is yet another White Plains taxi driver that isn’t trying very hard… Here is another artist rendition. Yeah, because the first turned out *so* well…

Here are some good past memories of Greyhound, after reminiscing with my friend and travel companion:

Does Greyhound even sell 30 day bus passes any more???

So I’ve heard that some MTA conductors have stumbled upon my silly little blog… so to them I say hello! Somebody, I don’t know who, happened to tell Guy that the pictures of him and his cue cards were online. So yes, Guy is now famous and immortalized on the internet. Honestly, I am amused that people have been finding this site, considering that it has been on the web just a short time (two weeks this Friday). I had too many stories to write when I first started though, so most of the entries were backdated to make it appear that the blog was started back in December or January.

Anyways, those cue cards are certainly back, and cooler than ever. I told a coworker the story, and he suggested I make some new super awesome cue cards. I matched the blue color of the Harlem Line signs, as well as the font face from the signs, and for good measure threw on a Metro North logo. They are incredibly convincing and official looking. I got Guy to model them yet again, though Peter again ran away from the camera :D

Now you are famous x2!

Here are the other cards:

After getting off the train in White Plains the place I work at has a shuttle that picks us up and takes us to Valhalla, where I work. I was pretty tired this morning, and had a rather nice nap on the train ride down. The shuttle bus was another story however… As we arrived at work, and I was attempting to wake myself up, I hear… “I’m your prince, I have to give you a kiss to wake you up!” Save me please!

It has always been my opinion that the taxis in White Plains have some really weird names. As you leave the station there is a long lane for taxis, and they all line up waiting for people in need of their services. Each taxi has a name on the left door, and the name of the town where it is from. Some of them try and sound professional: Executive Taxi. Some are just generic: Central Taxi, Westchester Taxi. Others are more out there, but still believable: Flamingo Taxi. Others, well, I just don’t know. One example was a taxi I saw today. The name was “Desire of Nation Tax” apparently there was not enough space on the door of the taxi to fit all that, so the last few letters were written up the side. And since there was no room for the “i”, it was left off. Come on guys, you’re not even trying…

Apparently the New York Times has written an article about the various names of the White Plains taxis. Desire of Nation comes from a church quarterly.

Since I was unable to capture a photo of the taxi, I commissioned an artist (myself) to make a rendition of what the taxicab looked like.

Most areas in and around the city have their fair share of pigeons. But in White Plains, the pigeons are special. I have given several of them little nicknames. There is “Fatty Fat Fat” a rather plump pigeon, which I am sure you could have guessed, and my favorite, “Peggy” also known as “Peg-leg” who has only one leg.

These pigeons are not stupid. In the cold of winter, where would YOU want to be? In freezing temperatures, or chillin’ in the train station, snatching up crumbs of food leftover by careless passengers? It is always incredibly hilarious to watch when one of the pigeons decides to enter the station. At the main entrance of White Plains, there is usually a long line in the morning of people waiting for their coffee or pastry at one of the two shops in the ground floor. Soaring into flight, the pigeons fly perilously close to the top of their heads, startling them. Some do in fact scream. Then the pigeons fly up the stairwell to hang out in the waiting room, where silly passengers-in-waiting (like me) throw them bits of food.

One morning I sat in the waiting room, amusedly watching the antics of one pigeon pacing the waiting room. The way they walk, with their heads bobbing back and forth, I always find amusing. On the door to the waiting room there is in fact a sign that says it is for ticketed passengers only. It doesn’t seem to be a rule enforced, considering my previous stories of the drunks and homeless that hang out and take naps. Anyways, while waiting, a mustached man walks by. For some people a mustache is just a little bit of their overall look… for this guy his mustache was his defining attribute, it was just that massive. Massive enough to completely block his lips from vision. That is why when he spoke, for a few moments I was unsure whether the voice actually came from him, or came from someone or something else. And what did that mustached man say to me?

“DOES THAT PIGEON HAVE A TRAIN TICKET???!!”

Yes, yes, I am sure he does. He carries his pigeon pass… you let me in, or I take a shit on your head.

I think it is an unwritten rule of public transportation etiquette that when there are a lot of empty seats on the train/bus/whatever, you don’t sit right next to another passenger. Let me just say, a guy I saw on the train one evening was apparently unaware of this rule. By the time the train gets to Chappaqua, most of the passengers have already left, and the cars may have about two to three people in them, max.

In my train car, there was only one other guy. At Chappaqua, another man entered the train. From this point on I will refer to him as Bob. Bob decides to sit right next to the other man. After a few moments of awkward silence, Bob pipes up, “I repair radios. What do you do?” The other man appears to be rather dumbfounded, “Is he talking to me??” he thinks. So Bob repeats, “I repair radios. What do you do?”

If the silence was awkward, this was definitely even more so. The man began answering Bob’s questions, with what he told me later were completely fabricated answers. Then Bob wanted to know where the man lived, and where he grew up. Again, he was given fabricated answers.

As we approached Mount Kisco station, Bob asked the man if he knew anything about computers. The man said he did not. Bob abruptly rose from the seat and prepared to disembark, telling the man something along the lines of, “Oh, I don’t think we’ll talk again. If you knew about computers, I might have wanted to talk with you again. But you don’t.” And then, when the doors opened, Bob left.

I like to refer to this man as Bob, recalling a previous visit to Mount Kisco, though not by train. It had to have been at least five years ago, on the way home to Connecticut I stopped at the Burger King in Mount Kisco for a quick meal. In the parking lot there was a car completely filled in every place but the driver seat with fast food trash. Inside the Burger King we saw the man that owned the car: filling a two liter soda bottle in the self serve soda fountain, and then washing his hands in the soda. Needless to say, it was a memorable bit of amusement every time we were to pass through Mount Kisco.

Fast forward to about a year ago. My family again stopped at the Burger King in Mount Kisco, and my dad thought it would be amusing to ask if the man “who washes his hands in the soda” still comes around. Apparently he is well known at the establishment, and a worker told my father his name was Bob. I like to think that this man is the one I did in fact see on the train.

I may never know for sure.

This evening conductor Guy showed off his “Cue Cards” … for those troublesome passengers that happen to be listening to music devices with headphones and ignoring calls for tickets. He had several of them, asking for tickets, get your feet off the seat, and other amusing and useful phrases. They were all written on the back of one of the advertisement posters, conveniently ripped into smaller pieces. Another passenger’s suggestion was to get them translated into Spanish. Either way, I found the cards incredibly amusing. While snapping photos I said, “this is SO going on the internet.” After which conductor Peter, who was in the background of my picture taking, covered his face with his conductor’s hat. Guy’s response to that? “Yeah, you wouldn’t want to end up on Conductors Gone Wild or anything!” after which he began to dance around the car. Too great! Enjoy the pictures! (click to enlarge!)