Radio Repairman Returns! And a bunch of random memories…

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.

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Another Weirdo, Another Taxi, and old Greyhound Stories

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…
fishing

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

  • A man that wanted to give me 20 dollars to see if I could fit in the upper baggage hold of the bus
  • Vitaballs vitamins looking very suspicious on baggage x-rays
  • Taking 20 pounds of cheese from Wisconsin 1100 miles by bus
  • Getting soaked in a rainstorm because the skylight window on the bus would not close.
  • Getting hit on by a guy at the Atlanta bus station at 3am while eating icecream, and telling him we forgot our names.
  • Females flashing other passengers… then giving said passengers their “business card”
  • Getting kicked off the city bus in Las Vegas, because we asked the driver directions, and he said he was not an information booth
  • Almost getting kicked out of Canada because we wanted to get our passports stamped, apparently that desire makes them want to investigate you further… so we got detained. And my friend joked around when they asked her how much money she had, and said “a dollar.” Let’s just say the woman who detained us didn’t find this very amusing.
  • Shopkeeper in Wisconsin convincing my friend and I to buy cheese hats… We said that we would have no place to put them in our baggage, and she suggested we wear them on the bus, and told us of a man that was in a plane crash and was protected by his cheese hat, which he couldn’t fit in his luggage. Research into this subject proves that it is for the most part true, though the man was a pilot of a small plane and was not on a commercial aircraft.
  • A man with many face piercings bleeding profusely all over himself, and the bus.
  • A drug addict that lost his bag of drugs…
  • Does Greyhound even sell 30 day bus passes any more???

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    The Radio Repair Man, and Public Transportation Etiquette

    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.

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    “I Found 30 Cents!”

    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!”

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    Pigeonphobia

    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.

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    The Drunks of White Plains…

    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.

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    Suffocating Your Baby…

    While waiting on the platform, I noticed a woman acting a little strangely while pushing a baby carriage. Not like, strange enough to call the police or something, but just odd. She was pushing the carriage, but it was covered over with a large blanket. If a kid was inside, it would have been suffocating. Every couple of minutes, she would kneel down over the carriage, lift the flap, stick her head inside, and talk. Actually, thinking back, it was pretty damn weird. You see those “See Something, Say Something” posters everywhere, and that was kinda suspicious…

    Once we got on the train though, I did happen to notice that the woman wasn’t talking to a bomb or anything like that… she was attempting to conceal a cat strapped into the baby carriage.

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