Tomorrow I will be celebrating the end of my eighth full month commuting to work by Metro North. In that time I have encountered many different people. Some I’ve talked to, others I just watch and observe. I might be a little crazy, but I give them sort of nicknames in my head based on their observed traits. Here are some of the people I see regularly:

Ginger: Apparently we both ride the same train every morning. Long before I knew this, I would always pass by her at White Plains train station every morning. She’d be going to the opposite stairwell, while I went down to the one closer to the buses and taxis. The nickname was derived from her red hair, although I’ve noticed that the shade changes from time to time. It does somewhat bother me that her nickname is really a falsehood, not something that reflects her as a person, but reflects the choice of hair dye color for that month. Anyways, she always smiles when she passes by me. One morning when the train car I normally sit in was full, I wandered back and discovered that we ride the same train. She told me that day that seeing me every morning wearing my cute cat hat makes her smile.

Embroidery Lady:  She embroiders stuff while waiting at the train station. That is about it. The only amusing thing that I note about her is that her voice is a bit deeper and lower than I would have expected from her appearance. She has also told me that my cat hat is amusing, and she likes it.

Clipboard Lady: I see this lady in the White Plains train station in the morning. She stands in front of one of the display boards, and holds a clipboard. I wonder about the nature of the clipboard. What she is writing in it. Does she wait for the train and take it to work? Does she work for the MTA or someone else, and stand there to observe people and take notes?

Slipper man: I see slipper man take the train with me from Goldens Bridge in the morning. I tend to laugh at his shoes, because they don’t look like shoes one would wear to work, but slippers around the house. I assume that he goes to work on the train, but it is possible he does not. Either way, for him there is no Casual Friday. It is Casual Wednesday through Friday. These days he wears his slippers. He has several pairs, one being a completely obnoxious orange looking color. Other possible nicknames for him were Horrid Combover man, but I felt that the slippers defined his personality a little bit more.

Santa Claus Man: Looks like Santa Claus, so I imagine at least that is self explanatory. This man really freaks me out though. I at one point thought he was homeless, since I see him wandering around the train station often, sometimes pushing a grocery cart. It seems that he is not, however. He is the guy that I am certain I saw wearing no pants. I had to walk past him this morning on the way to the train station, and he grunted at me several times. If I ever disappear, or am found dead somewhere, this guy might be your first suspect.

Exercise Video Man: This man is totally doing it wrong. I sat next to him on the train one morning. He is a tad overweight, and had his laptop in his lap. I looked over and noticed he was watching an exercise video. On the train. I can understand watching movies and such, but what is the value of watching that, a video meant for you to participate along with? You’re doing it wrong, and you won’t be losing any weight that way, I’m sorry to say!

Juggling dude: I’ve been seeing him recently at White Plains station. I don’t think he is performing or looking for money at all, he just does these juggling sticks things to pass the time, assumedly until his train comes. For some reason I think he looks like Jimmy Wales. If you know who that is. (you probably don’t… he’s the founder of Wikipedia)

Blind lady: I most certainly don’t want to be mean or offensive when referring to this lady, because she is extremely nice. She has a very cute dog too. I really imagine it must be hard for a blind person to ride the train, but yet she does. She did actually mention that she fell off the platform in Brewster once, so she is very careful now. Shit, if I fell off the platform, I might be so afraid I’d never want to ride again! I do sort of observe her though, in case she ever needed any help or anything. One time when she was looking for a seat, the train is pretty busy at White Plains (where she gets on), and she was feeling around to find an empty seat, I think she sorta groped some guy who was sitting there. Guess that seat wasn’t empty.

Obnoxious Fedora Man: In order to explain this man, I must first tell a story. A story of the only time, within these seven months of travel, that MTA made me late for work. Our morning train, the diesel coming down from Wassaic, makes its last stop at Goldens Bridge. So by the time it gets to us, it is pretty full. The train all of a sudden stops in between Valhalla and North White Plains. Apparently something broke, and it needed to be repaired. So we were made to wait about fifteen minutes for someone from the repair facility to come and fix the train. Ten more minutes, and that person determined the train could not be fixed and must go out of service. They brought us up to North White Plains, and we had to disembark.

It was announced that another train would be on its way to pick us up. Now North White has more tracks than most of the other Harlem line stations, so people were unsure whether we should stay on the current platform, or go over to the other. One lady tried her luck and went over to the other platform. She was shouting across to her male friend/boyfriend/husband debating whether he should join her, or she should go back. Apparently Mr. Fedora man thought she was talking to him, and kept answering back her questions. Sort of like going into the bathroom and thinking the person in the stall next to you is asking you questions, when in reality they are talking on their cell phone.

Anyways, a train finally comes, though of course it was completely packed. Pretty much every seat taken. It was the most full I had ever seen a train. Just about everyone from my train was standing up in the aisle of this train. I just happened to be next to the couple, and they were talking about the “obnoxious” guy that kept answering and talking to her across the platform. I guess the name just stuck, in my head at least. The man used to wear a fedora during the winter, but does not anymore. But I still think of him as obnoxious fedora man.

To finish the story though, when we got to White Plains it was absolutely nuts. On a normal day you need to get up and in front of the doors beforehand, because those people are vicious and push their way onto the train, to hell if you are trying to get off. Now imagine a bunch of people confused because their normal train didn’t show up, others waiting for their normal train, and the train pulls in with no space whatsoever for any other body. No sitting room, no standing room. Oh yeah, and there was me, trying to get off. The conductor sorta had to push people aside while shouting “Move aside! Let the passengers out!” Oh well, I was late to work that day.

The man that is always there: His name is Gary. Gary Waxman. If you’ve ever been to White Plains station, you have probably seen him. He runs the news stand on the lower floor of the station. I can not remember a single time I have ever been in the station, and did not see him. He is always there. In the morning, and in the evening. When I need my morning Coke fix, I head right to Gary’s fridge. I’d certainly buy from him a bit more often, if he actually sold plain milk. He sells vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry flavored milks, but no plain milk. I like plain milk with my chocolate donuts in the morning. And I never have enough milk, because of a milk thief at work. But then again, that is a whole other story…

One of the most amusing things I can do as an owner of a website, is look at my web search statistics. Basically, it shows me what people type into google and other search engines to find my site. Quite often there are some crazy keywords, hence the amusement of looking through this list. So I figued it might be amusing to showcase some of the gold I’ve found, answer some questions, and help some people looking for information that you can’t find at my site. Remember that I am not making any of this up, these are all things that people have typed in.

[insert station name] train station parking / is there a ticket booth at [insert station name] / are there taxis at [insert station name] / directions to [insert station name]
Anything you could possibly want to know about any Metro North train station can be found here. Parking info, fares, ticket booth information, elevator status, taxi info, addresses, etc.

[insert station name] schedules / time tables / what time is the train?
MTA has a great schedule system here. You enter in your stations and the time you want to leave/arrive, and it will tell you what trains are available, how long they will be, and whether it is a peak hour train.

Brewster North train station
You’re looking for Southeast. Brewster North was renamed to Southeast several years ago.

Is the harlem line better then the new haven line?
I found it amusing that you had to ask! Of course the Harlem Line is better! Alright, alright, perhaps I am biased. The New Haven line does have barcars, and the blogging train conductor to the stars, Bobby, but we here on the Harlem Line have some pretty cool guys too.

I saw a bus run over a pigeon 2009 / I saw a pigeon run under a bus
Ah, good old pigeons. You must have found the site after I told the story of flattened pigeon. Alas, I didn’t see the actual event, only the aftermath, so I can provide you with no further information.

What is the font used on the grand central train schedules?
This one I know! The good majority of MTA signage and such is done in Helvetica. The station name signs, for example, are in Helvetica Bold Oblique… which is what I used for some very official looking cue cards…

The swine flu is it close to harlem?
Will you begin to panic if I say yes? One silly post about the swine flu, and it looks like everybody is in panic mode. But hey, at least my prediction didn’t come true after all!

Sexy guy with hat on
Hmm… I don’t know exactly what you are looking for, sorry. Do you think train conductor’s hats are sexy? I do have a few pictures of Guy wearing his conductor’s hat… I even have a picture of my dog wearing a conductor’s hat… if you’re into that kinda thing.

Man telling amusing train story with noises
What kinds of noises were these? If they were quacking noises, that might be Curley. Whom I prefer call “The Quack Quack Man.”

Weirdos in penn station
Don’t have any of those yet… I am more of a Grand Central kind of girl. But hey, if I ever see any weirdos the next time I do go over to Penn Station, I’ll certainly let you guys know.

Metro north conductor blog
The only one I am aware of is Derailed, run by the aforementioned New Haven Line conductor,  Bobby. It is a great read, I highly reccomend it.

Mta bee line buses / bee line bus phone number / harlembeelinebus
Check out the Bee Line Bus website here for anything you want to know about them. As far as I know, they are not part of MTA, although they will accept Metro Cards.

Anybody know what happened at the north entrance of grand central
Nope, what happened?

How do you deter pigeons from building nests?
Can’t help you there, sorry. I am always amused by failure in this department, hence the Pigeons: 1, Humans: 1, post. Putting spikes and such in areas pigeons like to nest never really seems to work all that well.

Metro north conductor photos
Why do you ask? Are you feeling a bit stalkerish? To my knowledge I only have a picture of one conductor, and he was aware that it was going to go on my blog. I don’t really want to put pictures of people up without their previous knowledge. So sorry, no “MTA train conductors hot or not” or “MTA Conductors gone wild” here on this blog.

Really though, it is bad enough that I attract creepy people on the train, apparently I do on the blog as well! Whoever typed in “[insert my full name] sex” in google, go fuck yourself, thanks.

Public transportation stories / Metro north railroad blog / Funny people on rides
Well, I am glad that you find this page actually looking for what I am trying to write. I hope you enjoyed some of the craziness here, and definitely come back.

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???

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.

I feel incredibly guilty about an incident that happened today… I found myself laughing at the misfortune of an old man. While waiting near Grand Central for my train back home, I went to grab a bite to eat. At a table to my right was a woman and her child, and to my left, an elderly man drinking a coffee.

Unfortunately, the old man spilled his coffee. The woman turned to him and said something along the lines of “ah, it’s okay, these things happen…” in an attempt to make him not feel so bad. I don’t think the guy actually heard her though, it seems that he was deaf or hard of hearing. Anyways, he grabbed some napkins out of his pocket to wipe up the table, and some change fell out of his pocket. After wiping the table he looked at the ground to see the mess there, and saw the money. He picked up the money and exclaimed, “I found 30 cents!”

He put the money back in his pocket. Except his pocket must have had a hole, because the change tumbled back out and onto the floor. And being that he was deaf, he didn’t hear it fall out. This happened several times. Pick up change, put in pocket, change falls out. The lady at the other table looked at me, and I knew she was thinking, “what the heck??”

Eventually, the guy just gave up and went into the bathroom. When he came out, we noticed that the spill was a lot larger than we thought… His pants were soaked, and it most certainly looked like he had wet himself. The lady saw and said something along the lines of “oh, I feel so bad!”

I replied back, “Yeah, I didn’t realize it was so bad… I feel really bad for laughing, but I do think he found his thirty cents about five times though!”

She laughed, “Oh, you saw that too? He must have had a hole in his pocket!”

Alright, so from all my posts about pigeons, you may think that I have a little bit of a thing for them. Not really. They are just amusing animals. Something about the way they bob their heads back and forth… which they do even faster and in an even more amusing way when you just happen to be chasing them. And with little kids, and little idiots (like myself), it is a much more likely scenario to see a human chasing a pigeon. But one incredibly amusing day, I definitely saw the opposite. I have a coworker that apparently has a phobia of pigeons. He normally doesn’t take the train from White Plains, he takes the bus to Stamford to pick up a New Haven line train… so he doesn’t normally hang out in the White Plains train station with my friends and I. On this fateful day however, he had to go to the bathroom. Unfortunately, the upstairs hallway on the way to the bathrooms was being patrolled by a pigeon looking for handouts. My coworker cowered against the wall, and pointed to the pigeon. Another coworker said “Oh just go by him, he won’t do nothin’ to ya…” And so he timidly stepped forward… and the pigeon launched into the air, and flew straight at him. In truly hilarious fashion, he screamed, and ran the rest of the way to the bathroom, as fast as he could. He may be ridiculed about this day from now until the end of time.

While on my way home from work, I often have to sit in the White Plains train station for a bit, waiting for my train to arrive. Oftentimes the seating area is full, but every once and a while it is not.

That is truly when you ought to be cautious. Because a lot of times there are *reasons* why those seats are not taken.

A lot of times those reasons are whom I like to refer to as the drunks of White Plains. My favorite, or perhaps I should say, my *least* favorite, smells heavily of alcohol, and does a pretty poor job of drinking alcohol (out of a large fruit juice bottle, mind you), probably getting more on his body than down his throat.

Another least favorite is a lady who enjoys taking up several of the seats, and stretches out and falls asleep. She punctuates the noise of the waiting area with her own brand of slurred half-asleep gibberish.

In either case, I’d much prefer to stand.