A few of you may recall me writing about my antics at the Goldens Bridge train station in December. There had been some vandalism, and I thought I’d cover it up with amusing signs until Metro-North decided to fix it all. The first sign I posted had a picture of a raccoon, and the title said “Cat Found!” Included on the bottom of the sign was a phone number to a voicemail box I registered on the internet. If you call it, I get the message forwarded to my email box as a WAV file. A few months later (now, in March) images of the poster made their rounds on the internet. And I got a bunch of calls (some of which may or may not be from students from an unnamed school that ride my morning train). These are some of the better the messages that I got. My personal favorite is Mr. Captain Obvious, who suggests I should change my phone number. I figured I’d post it up here, since I know some of my readers thought the sign funny, and were wondering if anyone would call.

I personally thought that last week’s Cat Found poster was pretty funny. They were slowly taken down one by one, but at least one of the posters survived the entire week. My goal was to again, cover up the graffiti, and now the broken glass, with something a bit more amusing. The poster I hung last night was somewhat more subtle.

The name Waldo should give it away. Don’t fix that glass Metro North, it looks sexy as-is.

Cover up that graffiti!

Well, let’s just say it was a miserable failure. The signs did not last 24 hours in the station. By morning time, six of the seven were gone, and one was moved in the corner and partially crumpled. If an MTA worker did this, I could understand. But then that means that they employ workers to go into stations and pull down posters. And do only that. Because they sure as hell didn’t clean the station. The same immature penis drawings in the dirt that have been there for months are still there. The graffiti is still there, the broken glass on the floor is still there. I will just assume that I pissed off the graffiti artist. And they certainly didn’t want their handiwork covered up.