The American Girl Place Factor

I have had a running theory as a commuter for a few years now. If you see a family with American Girl Place bags sitting next to you, run. To take it a step further, the more bags you see, the more distance you should put between yourself and the AGPers.

For example last night we mananged to sit next to a group with 4 kids and about 6 AGP bags. Sure enough the kids were all over the place, and by the end of the trip one of the kids was screaming this shrill wail that had to piss off dogs for miles.

Honestly I am not quite sure what makes the AGP bags such a great forward indicator of bratly activity. It must be something to do with the kids are probably spoiled rotten if their parents can afford to waste hundreds of dollars on damned dolls. Heck those stupid dolls have more expensive clothes than I do.

Anyways, so there is your free advice for the day. When riding the South Shore, remember the AGP factor when determining where to sit. If you see AGP bags, there is probably a reason there are open seats around those muggles.

Revenge of the Walking Gorditas

So today the train was about 5 minutes late getting into the station, and our favorite roadblocks were extra whiney. They had missed their buses, and now were faced with the quandry of being late or walking.

Gordita1-Shit I missed my bus because of this stupid train. Now I am going to be late.

Godita2-Yeah, I might walk to try to get there quicker instead of waiting for a bus to show up.

G1-No way, I am waiting for the bus.

G2-Do the buses come pretty regularly?

G1-It depends, somedays they are quick, somedays they take forever.

Now those are dedicated employees right there. I wonder how long they waited for a 15 minute bus ride, when they could have done a 10 minute walk?

Talk like a Commuter

I did go ahead and add a sidebar with terms that can help those unfamiliar with the South Shore, talk like you belong. Most of the terms in there are slams against someone or something, but when you belong to commuter hell, most things annoy you, so this should not come as any real surprise to anyone. More terms and definitions will be added as needed or remembered.

Hi, is it Patty or Selma?

So last week I am standing on the platform waiting for the train to go home at Van Buren, when some older woman walks up right next to me. She procedes to light up a cig, and manages to chain smoke two of them in less than 10 minutes. I don't mind if people smoke (people do all kinds of stupid things they know can kill them, heck we might as well tax them for it) but don't walk up to someone who clearly isn't smoking and start. So once one of the guys walked up and asked me what was going on in the Sox game I was listening to, I launched on a profanity filled tirade. I got the requisite dirty looks, but not the "do you mind" that I was hoping for. I was hoping to unload right back on the inconsiderate bitch, but she instead shook her head and tore into her second Virgina Slim. Wuss.

Different Purgatory, different day

Well yesterday I ended up scoring freebies to see the best team in baseball, the Chicago White Sox, so I did the Chicagoian thing, and caught the Red Line down to the ballpark. I think my favorite part of the Red Line is the people that ride it, especially at that time of day. You get everything from the little kid scam artists who were asking for money to support their basketball team, to the lost dopey tourists who are trying to make their ginormous suitcases fit in a packed rush hour train, to the drunk who just about falls down at every stop. If you like people watching as a sport, there are no better places to partake than on the CTA.

No wonder you're fat!

One of the Gorditas (my new nickname for the fat and slow women who have to get off of the train first, dispite the fact that they can barely make it up the stairs and they slow everyone else down) was talking to another one of the Gorditas about where they worked. Here is the breakdown of what the conversation consisted of.

Gordita1: Yeah I hate this part of the day, I work down on Adams and Washington and it is such a long walk.

Gordita2: I work down at Wacker and Adams.

G1: Wow, how do you make it down there everyday?

G2: I don't, I take the bus.

For perspectives sake we are talking about 6 city blocks, 3/4 of a mile. We are also talking about 5'6" 300 lbs, and a gut that sticks out further than her chest. Now it all makes sense.

Pet Peeve Monday

Well lately things have quieted down now that most of the muggles are off of the trains. So instead of bitching about them, I had to think up something new to complain about so what are your pet peeves about riding the South Shore.

I know the one that pisses me off more than anything is that it seems like the first people to stand up to get off of the train first, are either old or fat, and either way are slow as hell. Why do you people think that you should be first off of the train, when all you do is clog it up for people who actually can walk up a flight of stairs without it turning into an aerobic activity. Get the hell out of everybodies way you inconsiderate pieces of lard!

Also I hate when people talk about masterbation on the train... ;0)

Black Friday is in the books

So we managed to survive Muggle Invasion 2005, aka the Taste of Chicago, with minimal damage... that is except for the dope who managed to close her finger in the door.

I got stuck with a loser college couple who didn't want to share seats at all, like typical muggles. Nerd ended up moving over to sit with us later, and was soon followed by High Matinence. The girl of the couple saw a couple of her buddies so she went back and talked to them, while her penis of a boyfriend wouldn't let anyone sit in her seat, dispite the fact that she was more interested in talking to her friends, than his boring ass. I just can't stand tourists who think because they pay money for a train ticket, it means they own every seat they want, dispite the rest of the world exsisting around them. Hopefully they had to stand the rest of the way to South Bend, as of course they were in the wrong car, and all of the seats were gone long before they figured it out.