This morning marked the arrival of our new shuttle bus. Within minutes of waiting, however, it seemed as though we were about to get hijacked by a masked man. Upon further scrutiny it seemed as though we were mistaken: it was just another passenger waiting out in the bitter cold for a bus that was going to be late. Typical.

Though the new bus is nice, I must admit. It turns out that the robot man is not our driver, it is some other guy. And we thought the robot drove slow, this as yet un-nicknamed fellow is even slower. Even poor bag lady missed her train (boo hoo). Just the part that the bus no longer picks us up in front of the train station isn’t the most fun. At least there you could wait in the vestibule, which is at times warmer even than the waiting room. Now we get picked up across the street by the Greyhound stop, and thus have no warm place to wait. (and now I deserve a good sarcastic boo hoo for myself).

Another side effect of the cold weather is that the pigeons begin to sneak inside the train station. I had been wondering where they were for a month or so now. Most people think pigeons are dumb, but they have to have some smarts to know they’d rather be inside than out in the cold, and practice amusing methods of getting in. I hadn’t seen any of them inside until today. A pigeon tore through the upstairs waiting room earlier this evening, flying over the people waiting for their (late) trains. Just in general freaking people out. Terrorizing the train riders, though today nobody ran off screaming. One of these times I need to capture that on video.

After writing all of this, it seems that everything is pretty normal over in White Plains. But on the home front, Goldens Bridge, it seems that everything is not. Here we don’t have pigeons, but people terrorizing the station. I wouldn’t be surprised if it is the obnoxious area skater kids, drunk on a weekend with nothing else better to do. They’re probably the ones to blame for the graffiti I mentioned before (and some new graffiti that appeared this afternoon), but maybe not for the weekend’s escapade of kicking in all the glass panels on all the doors of the south side vestibule. Maybe it was creepy, perpetually drunk Santa Claus. Who knows? Though, uhh, Metro-North? I can live with the fact that you never wash the windows. I suppose I will live, albeit a little frustrated, when you don’t clean up the graffiti. But umm… will you at least fix the glass? Is this train station even safe? Should I be carrying mace around on my keychain?

Due to the snow this morning a lot of people ended up leaving work early. I ended up getting a ride to Hawthorne from a coworker. I don’t normally visit that station, just in the few exceptions that snow has caused shuttle bus issues. Unlike what I am used to in Goldens Bridge, a good portion of the platform in Hawthorne is uncovered. So by the time I got there, there was at least an inch of snow covering over everything. Of course I took the opportunity to take some photos as I was waiting for my train.

And when the train passes by, who do I see with his head poking out the window? Peter, the conductor who used to be on my evening train who I haven’t seen in a few months. We caught up on our amusing train stories, and observed an odd woman wearing pajamas sitting a few seats away from me.

There is this crazy guy at White Plains that I nicknamed Mr. Chicago, because he talks to himself and will out of the blue just shout out, “The train to New York is late! … Because it had to stop in CHICAGO, HAHAHA!” Anyways, this woman could totally be his sister. They even look alike! Apparently she liked my hat, but the pompoms bothered her. She kept asking me, “but what are the pompoms for?” She waddled off the train in Katonah, at which point Peter asked me if I knew her. I had never seen her before in my life. Just one more of those interesting and odd people that I encounter on the train…

What a good morning this has turned out to be. Lets just say that I normally take a morning train at 7:13, but today that was the time I woke up, since I forgot to set my alarm. Now I know that the next train from Goldens Bridge leaves at 7:25, since I used to take that train. I am sitting on that 7:25 train right now. I didn’t brush my hair, wash my face, or make my lunch. And I have to pee, very badly. Which probably means I have to use the bathroom in White Plains. Which is just as bad as an outhouse, port-a-potty, or a train bathroom. In fact, I’d probably rather use an M7 bathroom over the bathroom in White Plains.

Anyways, the 7:25 train is one of those diesel trains that come down from Wassaic. Over on My Effing Commute John wrote one day about taking this train, and how nobody on the train talks. If you talk you are a “rookie”. This is totally true, and it amuses me. It is sort of like a different type of people ride these trains as opposed to the trains I am used to taking. I shall dub these people The Wassaic People.

The 7:25 from Goldens Bridge typically looks like this

As previously mentioned, The Wassaic People don’t talk on the train. If you do talk, you will get scowled at. This happened to me when I was carrying on a short conversation with the conductor that came to collect my ticket. Most times, Wassaic people sleep on the train. The good majority do this, though there are a few that read, or are on their laptops. When you exit the train and watch it pass by, you can see all the little heads of the people leaning against the windows, sleeping. I find this amusing.

I was totally taking over the world – playing Risk on my laptop

Wassaic People like to stand in the vestibule. Shoreliner cars have vestibules at the ends of the cars. There is a sign on the door saying passengers are prohibited from standing while the train is in motion, but nobody ever follows warning signs like that. If you are getting off at White Plains, people walk and wait in the vestibule right after Valhalla. You do want to be first to get off, don’t you? On the train I normally take you just sort of stand up and exit about five seconds before the train stops. I can understand this behavior in Grand Central, people want to get out before the rat race begins. But this seems to happen at every stop this train makes. Even the little stops, where perhaps only two people get off.

Wassaic People also tend to be a little more angry than other train riders. Perhaps because they have to sit for a lot longer than the rest of us to get to Grand Central. Perhaps it is the fumes of the diesel engine. This increased little bit of anger or stress is probably why I get scowled at while riding this train. And if you are a new rider, you may be concerned about people taking their anger out against the doors. People kick the doors on these trains. There are buttons toward the bottom of the door that when pressed open the door. Mind you, I said pressed. One does not need to violently kick the door. But many people do.

The kick-me button

This is apparently the Wassaic way. Honestly, I don’t know which is better. I started taking the earlier train so I could at least have no difficulty in finding a seat. But when I take that train, I always get annoyed by the obnoxious school kids, or the occasional person getting drunk on their way to work at Target. I suppose it is an interesting ride either way.

My usual train car, many people had to stand in the open area by the doors, which made it difficult for others to enter and exit

Oh lord, the train last night was a nightmare. But of course, around holiday time, it always is. There was such difficulty getting onto the train at White Plains, because every seat was filled, and there were already people hanging out and standing by the doors, blocking other people from getting on. The only thing I could think of though, is about the cuts that are supposed to be coming for Metro North, and the MTA as a whole. Many trains will run with fewer cars. It has been a persisting rumor that my train would go from ten cars to eight. It hasn’t happened yet. But with these cuts, I can only imagine that it will end up happening quite soon. And I can’t even begin to imagine how horribly packed we’re going to be on an eight car holiday-time train.

Trains were so full, many people stood in the spaces at the front and back of the train cars

I was accidentally smacked in the ass by another passenger (apparently priming me for my upcoming trip to Japan, where I will be riding the rails. Groping happens so frequently there are special female-only trains). And to my left was a man listening to an ipod, and playing air guitar along with it. In front of me were several belligerent twenty-somethings attempting to light the others on fire with cigarette lighters. And the second I found a seat and yanked out my netbook, another passenger began a conversation with me about it, telling me how cute and light it looked. She wanted to know how much memory it had on it, and I said 1gb. She laughed and said that she has a flash drive that is bigger than that. I debated explaining the difference between memory (ram) and hard drive space, but I decided it wasn’t worth the effort.

Oh well, that is enough from me. I wish everyone a Happy Holidays! I was supposed to be working today, and I had planned to pass out holiday cards at White Plains to all the other unfortunate people that also had to work on Christmas Eve. Unfortunately (or fortunately) my tooth is hurting terribly (the dentist accidentally broke a tool in my mouth at an appointment on last week. I thank the coworker that had to say to me, “Oh I hope you didn’t get an infection from that) and I have an emergency pre-holiday dentist appointment, and I will be working from home. Anyways, enjoy the holiday, and I will see you next week!

Today the “Cat Girl” morphed into “Rabbit Girl”. It has been so cold lately, that I figured I’d use the rabbit hat, since the long ears can be wrapped around and serve as a scarf. You really know it is cold though, when you get to the station and there isn’t a single soul standing on the platform. They are all hiding in the heated vestibules until the train arrives.

When I got into work I took this photo of my rabbit attire…

A bunch of trains were delayed this morning, my friend ended up getting in late. She said that the conductor told her a woman lost her shoe on the tracks. Anyone know if this is true? If it is, it is kind of lame. Clearly she should have gone to work barefoot. Oh that would be too funny.

On my train however, I had a delightful man that apparently felt like sticking his hand down his pants. I am of the opinion that if you are in public, you should not be doing that. Ever. It is really creepy and nasty. I did actually take a picture of the guy, but after much internal debate, I have chosen to not post that image on the blog.

Anyways, the time I spent on my train (ignoring the man with his hand down his pants) was somewhat eventful, since I decided to write a note to the Connecticut Department of Transportation, regarding the Solari board’s removal next year in New Haven. Apparently a follow up article to the one I posted a few days ago was written on the New Haven Independent site a few days ago. The DOT may consider some sort of compromise, where perhaps the Solari would be saved, but moved to a different place. Or donated to a museum. And the new LCD would make the characteristic flipping noise of the Solari. This “compromise” doesn’t seem like much of a compromise, as it still means the Solari would be moved from its location in the station. If I get any sort of response to the letter I wrote, I will certainly post it here.

Did someone let the nutter bus loose today? Was the local asylum giving out day passes? We had some delightful numbskulls today getting in fights on speakerphone in the waiting room, and an amusing man wearing a New York Times badge that was having difficulty hearing on his phone. Of course when you have difficulty hearing, the only solution is to stick your finger in your ear, find the nearest corner, and go stand facing the corner while resting your head against the wall for support. Can you hear me now?

I like to read and mumble. And then get on my speaker phone and get into arguments, which I am sure everyone loves to hear!

I can’t stand some people’s UGGly boots, but there are some that just make no sense to me at all. These boots are so hairy it looks like an old, brown poodle died on each of your feet.

Every time Santa Claus Man treks up the stairs at Goldens Bridge, he thinks in his mind, ‘I can reach the unreachable star!’ because just going up a flight of stairs when you are that drunk might as well be climbing Mount Everest.

Ah, good old Sleeper Kid. I have to give him credit, at least he isn’t trying to eat and sleep at the same time any more.

I have no pictures for this one, so instead, I will leave you with a story:
This week marks the return of this rather large and obnoxious woman. She rode the shuttle bus last year, and then all of a sudden disappeared. Honestly, I had hoped she got fired. I guess she didn’t, because now she is back. Maybe she just rides the bus in the winter for some odd reason. I don’t really know. Either way, she is dead set about being the first person to get on the bus. She can and will push aside any other person in her way to be the first person on the bus. As witnessed this evening, if she is sitting in a seat and there is another open seat right next to her, her fat ass is not moving an inch. Our building complex now has two shuttle buses, but for the longest time we had only one. Before we got the second bus, extra people would have to stand in the aisles if there were not enough seats. Now that we have two buses, people that don’t fit in the seats on the first bus are required to wait five minutes or so for the other bus to come around. Tonight there was an extra seat on our bus, but because fat ass didn’t want to move her butt, that person had to stand in the bitter cold until the other bus came around. And then she had the audacity to laugh about how cold it was outside, and that she couldn’t have waited another minute out there. When someone said to her that there was one more seat, she said, “Who gon’ fit dere?” If someone can’t fit there next to your fat butt, maybe that is your cue to go on a diet? For the record, as I am sure I will get a flame from someone about that, I do not have a problem with fat people, but I do have a problem with assholes.

The other evening in the White Plains train station my good friend the crazy coat guy was creeping around the waiting room. He was sporting the earrings and big fat chains that day, as well as his green purse, which must be his favorite, since he’s always had it ever since he started experimenting with women’s purses. As he is stalking around, my friend who is a bit afraid of the guy walked away. She’s convinced that there is going to be one day that the guy is going to snap and either push someone off the platform, or push someone down the stairs. And I certainly wouldn’t put it beyond him. And he has in the past just randomly started yelling at me, so he certainly creeps me out.

While this is going on some other random guy swoops in and says to us, “Don’t be skurred! He’s a little slow, but he won’t hurt you! I see the man every day here.” Well yes, I do too, but I wouldn’t go so far to say as he wouldn’t hurt anyone. As the man walked a few steps closer to inform us yet again to not be “skurred” I could quite clearly smell the alcohol he was drinking from a plastic cup. Right man, I trust you. He then informs us, “if he had done anything, I would have beaten him up for you girls.” I’m sure that would end well.

Oh look at that purse!

Oh man, I’m sitting in the waiting room in White Plains laughing my ass off, because that sleeper kid that I posted pictures of once before is back. And he is worse then ever. Giant book in hand, he keeps falling asleep, and rocking back and forth as gravity attempts to pull him out of the chair and onto the floor. He dropped his book, and the clatter woke him up. Apparently he was also trying to eat, and with his wide open mouth, the food dribbled out and onto the floor. The rest of the food just rests underneath him discarded, he must have dropped it. Eating while falling asleep probably isn’t the best of ideas, though at least he has the sense not to eat the food that fell on the ground. Right now, though, he is just snoring quite loudly, as the people that walk back and forth through the waiting room chuckle and stare.

In other news, the guy who always hangs out at White Plains station begging for dollars has also returned. Before he even asked me for money, I just said to him “We don’t have any money for you.” He replied back, “no dollars?” and my friend said, “No. No dollars. You are always here begging for money!” And with that, he left. I happened to come up with a brilliant idea though, but a bit too late to use on him. The next time anyone begs for money, I will say that if they stand right where they are and do a little dance or sing a song, and allow me to record it, I will give them a dollar. That way they get their money, and we get something hilarious to look at on the blog. Spectacular!

Though this morning wasn’t completely bust… the delightful Salvation Army trombone player was also back. And he brought his friends! They certainly sounded good, as I said before, much better than ringing that bell. I ended up giving them the dollar that I didn’t give to the beggar, certainly a far better investment. I did ask him what other stations he plays at, and he said Hartsdale and Scarsdale, so you riders over in those stations look for him and his cheerful Christmas tunes.

Metro North says that the day before Thanksgiving is the busiest train day of the year. And I certainly believe it. Though any day right before a long weekend tends to be rather busy, yesterday I definitely saw the most people I ever have on my train. When I got on at White Plains there were massive amounts of people, barely enough room to get on the train. All the seats were taken, and people were standing.

Or lounging around in the aisles, while wearing ugly boots, taken after Valhalla when most of the standing folks had exited

Though of course human passengers were not the only ones on board. There were a few canines as well, like this delightful ten-month old pup named Jasmine:

The waiting room was surprisingly empty at White Plains though, and the morning trains were fairly empty. You lucky people that didn’t actually have to work yesterday. But of course there was this one creepy guy, carrying four boxes that on the outside said they contained blood drawing needles, and kept studying a photocopy of a paper that had pictures of guns all over it.

Anyways, enjoy the holiday folks, Happy Thanksgiving!

The other night was rather interesting in White Plains… An interesting woman walked up the stairs and stood in line waiting for the ticket machine, and probably just about everyone in the station was staring at her. I’m not the best at just going up to random people and taking their picture, so I don’t have one, unfortunately. The woman had incredibly long dreadlocks, which probably would be down to the floor, had they not been tied up. The dreadlocks were all dyed colors, fire engine red and a sunny yellow. She had many long and pointy piercings on her face, so much so that she looked like a little bit of a porcupine. She also had a tattoo of a heart on her face, whether it was permanent or not I was not able to determine. I don’t really mind people’s looks like some of the folks that were at the train station that night do. I mean, it is her body, she is welcome to do that if she wishes. And heck, I even I had blue hair for a time. The only thing I want to know is why the hell was she carrying a black mannequin torso around at the train station!

I had never seen that woman before, so she is hardly a regular at the station… unlike the crazy guy that is always talking to himself. He’s a train station regular… and it is always a strange day to not see him stalking around. I posted a picture of him a few weeks ago when he first began experimenting with wearing purses. A few days I’ve seen him wearing multiple purses. And then other days, he goes back to wearing big fat gold chains, with gold laces in his boots.

Apparently my friend who happened to also be a the station on the weekend said that she saw him waving money around like a fan. To most people I really wouldn’t suggest doing that at all… but this guy, well, everyone knows he’s crazy, and they probably stay the hell away.

And this guy, well, who knows, I just saw him on the train the other day and felt like taking a picture. He kept showing off the fact that he was wearing no socks and
smooth-shaven legs. That, and he snored really loud.