Comments (26)

1. I was once vomited on while taking one of those Chinatown express buses from NY to Boston. The vomiting occurred about 4 minutes after the trip began. There was no chance to get off, and very little to clean up with. Worse than the vomiting was the woman who constantly apologized the entire trip. I made my boyfriend drive me back home (Boston to NY), because I refused to ever ride in one of those death traps again!

   posted by Tracy on 10-7-2008 at 10:13 am

2. I said the L was in New York and was told I was wrong. But I’m not! There’s the L train, which is the horizontal running train that runs between Manhattan and Brooklyn. There’s also “el” trains which run on elevated tracks. Just want to credit where credit’s due.

   posted by Lorin on 10-7-2008 at 10:15 am

3. Just yesterday a guy peed next to me on the subway. Got up, unzipped, and everything. All over the floor. (Sadly, this is a semi-regular occurrence, probably not book-worthy.)

   posted by Cameron on 10-7-2008 at 10:16 am

4. P.S. Tracy’s story reminded me of the fung wah bus (chinatown, nyc to boston) that tipped over. It was full of people, it took an exit too fast and tipped.

   I was in a subway station when the blackout in ’03 happened. I was lucky because we hadn’t pulled out of the station yet and could evacuate easily.

   posted by Lorin on 10-7-2008 at 10:19 am

5. My subway story took place in New York City, on the F train. It was morning, I was heading to work in Midtown at HBO, I had my newspaper and container of OJ in tow. All I wanted to do was drink my drink, read my paper, and get to work.

   As is somewhat common in the NYC subway system, a man came on the train at my second stop and started proclaiming “jesus as the one to turn towards”. I am not a christian, but regardless of what this man was peddling, it was a subway… it was morning and it was loud, annoying, distracting, and quite frankly rude.

   All the passengers, myself included, rolled our eyes and sighed a collective “ugh”. right as this man started delivering his “sermon”.

   I had surprised myself, I usually would have sat silently and resented this man internally for the rest of the day. But I thought, if I asked him politely perhaps he will stop his public proselytizing. A religious man, in theory, should be thoughful of his fellow man. I asked the “loud gentleman” if he wouldn’t mind stopping or at the very least lower his voice. He got louder.

   Before I knew it, I was on my feet standing right next to this man.I announced to the train, the whole of his captive audience, ” Everyone, the new DAWN OF THE DEAD just came out and now, I will take it upon myself to read what this newspaper reviewer thought of the film.”

   I started reading this review, the evangelical man got louder, screaming a passage from the Bible. I got louder sreaming from The New York Post. I raised my volume. He raised his. It continued to both of us were pretty loud. He is screaming about Jesus from a psalm and I am screeeeaming about zombies from DAWN OF THE DEAD.

   I finish reading my review all red faced and agitated. I sat down only to look up to see I was getting applauded.

   I got a STANDING ovation from all the people on the train with me. Standing.

   Its a great way to start a day.

   posted by daniel berman on 10-7-2008 at 10:30 am

6. I recently moved and now I walk to work, but for 3 years I lived waaay out on the end of the Green B Line (part of Boston’s T, and the one with the worst reputation for tardiness). There were myriad terrible experiences with delays (usually when it was raining -my stop was unprotected on street level- or I had to get to the airport) but most of the time it was my fellow T riders who provided the amusement. I once saw a very large businessman (easily 6’4″) in a suit and shiny shoes, checking his email on a blackberry and carrying a briefcase with music blaring loud enough for me to hear from his earbuds. What music, you ask? Why, the Footloose soundtrack, of course! Geez, Louise, pull me offa my knees… it totally made my day.

   posted by Adrienne on 10-7-2008 at 10:41 am

7. ahahahaha…slut.

   I don’t have a story, as Baltimore has a crap puplic transportation system that no one takes, but I most definitely want to vote for Daniel’s subway story.

   posted by Caitlin on 10-7-2008 at 10:44 am

8. so…it kind of pains me that this represents atl and the MARTA.. but it’s hilarious. i think the girl got arrested for harassing the elderly? anyway, enjoy. remove spaces, obviously.

   souljagirl original
   www .youtube. com/watch?v=-NZtGz_7WI0&feature=related

   Ludachrist remix
   www .youtube. com/watch?v=qeSKhcpLkIM

   posted by drumnbasskitty on 10-7-2008 at 10:59 am

9. I have a problem with #13.
   New Orleans’ public transportation is known as the RTA (see the link in my name), which runs the famous streetcars.
   The JeT serves serving the urbanized portion of Jefferson Parish, which neighbors New Orleans and is home to Metairie and Kenner. It is neither the public transportation for the city of New Orleans nor the parish of Orleans.

   posted by Lindsey on 10-7-2008 at 11:22 am

10. My funny/sad story happened on MARTA in Atlanta.

    On a crowded train, I couldn’t help hearing a couple in their late teens to early 20s arguing. They couldn’t decided what time it was in Florida. It was about 4:00 p.m. in Atlanta and they thought it must be later in Florida since the state (their reasoning) is east of Georgia. They came to the collective decision that it must have been about 4:30 in Florida.

    It took everything I had to burst out laughing and then crying.

    posted by Lindsey on 10-7-2008 at 11:28 am

11. That should be “not” to burst out laughing and then crying.

    posted by Lindsey on 10-7-2008 at 11:30 am

12. My worst story took place on an airplane…not exactly public transit, but still worth a mention.

    I was on my way to Florida for a high school spring break trip with 4 of my friends. As we were starting our approach into Jacksonville, I felt something hot and wet land on my hands and face. At first I thought it was water, until the smell hit me. I realized that I was covered head to toe in vomit. In my hair…in my shoes…on my coat…in my carry-on…down my back…in my pockets…everywhere. I started screaming and stood up to see who it was and it was a pregnant lady sitting across the aisle behind me. She had a barf bag in her hand, unopened. With the exception of one splat in the aisle, all of the vomit landed right on me. So I yelled, “THAT’S WHAT BARF BAGS ARE FOR!” and burst into tears.

    I was a yelling, crying mess, my friends were laughing at me, the other passengers were nervous because of the commotion I was causing…especially while we were landing. (I am NOT good with vomit). The flight attendants rushed me to the tiny bathroom to wash my hair in the sink and also told me that after 16 years of flying, she’d never seen that happen before. Glad I could be the first.

    When we finally got off the plane, the woman’s husband apologized to me (she didn’t speak English). And I felt so sick I could hardly walk. I was just covered in puke. When we finally got picked up by my friend’s aunt, we had a 2 hour car ride and no one would sit next to me because I smelled. I was forced to sit in the very back, with my head out the window the whole ride.

    Needless to say, it was a terrible experience. And I will never again sit in the aisle seat on an airplane.

    posted by Pam on 10-7-2008 at 1:13 pm

13. I think my knowledge of this subject actually hurt my score (8/13) some. I work in public transit, mostly with systems in my state, but around the nation as well.
    There are A LOT of transit systems out there that go by acronyms, most of which end with “AT”, “TA” or “ART” (they’re not that creative, now are they?).
    With the exceptions of 3 (SLUT), 10 (The T) and 11 (SEPTA), I can name at least one “alternate” for each of these!

    posted by Elphaba on 10-7-2008 at 1:21 pm

14. I’ll also add to the “worst of” public transit stories.
    Because, as I previously mentioned, I work in the industry, my story isn’t quite like others, but its a “worst of” to me.
    Part of my job is encouraging people to ride public transit: making transit systems more attractive, showing people the benefits, etc. However, I cannot convince one of the closest people to me – my mother-in-law to ride the dang bus.
    She frequently complains of daily traffic-enduced stress, wasted time in the car, and other problems that could be “solved” by hitching a ride on public transit. She’s also one of the few people who would actually have a shorter ride on the bus than her usual daily commute.
    Regardless, she refuses. I’ve offered everything I can think of (riding with her for a few days, providing maps, etc) but to no avail. Oh how I’ve failed!

    posted by Elphaba on 10-7-2008 at 1:27 pm

15. If Fairbanks, Fresno or Fargo had an Area Rapid Transit, it could be called FART.

    posted by Deuce on 10-7-2008 at 1:55 pm

16. Daniel- you just made my day! THAT was a good story. Preach on ’bout the zombies, brotha!

    posted by lizhot on 10-7-2008 at 2:28 pm

17. well, first, in reference to the quiz. when i saw that dubuque was an option on question 5 i had to laugh. i wiiiiiish dubuque had public transportation, well anything worthwhile, but i love to see my city mentioned beyond just iowans :)

    now for my story. as i mentioned dbq doesnt really have public transportation but i did use it all the time in Rome, Italy when i lived there. after a few months i finally got used to it but the first time i had to take a bus by myself was terrible!!!! having no public transportation exprience wasnt the only scary part but the fact i couldnt speak italian yet (i had juuust moved there). i got on the same bus as all the other students i recognized from the university we were attending. i figured we must all live sorta close cuz we were all just college students studying abroad but i was totally wrong. i got on teh bus and slowly all the other people, not just students but everyone, kept getting off. im riding and absolutely nothing is looking familiar. finally the bus comes to a stop, it is literally at the end of the line. i was the only one on there still and the bus driver comes back and tries to talk to me. i cant speak italian and he cant speak english. i immediately start to cry. i have no idea where i am at and no idea how to communicate. i take out this little italian/english dictonary and try say “big white buliding” because thats the only big landmark anywhere near my apartment. he has no clue. so the driver ends up calling someone he knew that could speak a little english, and hands his phone to me. the woman i talked to def couldnt help me, the english she knew amounted to my italian (i had been there for like 4 days). so really it was no help. im still crying. i didnt have a cell phone yet and didnt know anyone else that was there. finally when he realized that this was going no where, he started his route again and i got off where i orignally got on the bus. and walked home like 3 miles, in the dark, still crying.

    posted by ellen on 10-7-2008 at 4:55 pm

18. Taking the 38 Geary in San Francisco through the Tenderloin, a man dookied his pants.

    First there was the smell. And then he started shouting, “I sh*t my pants! I sh*t my pants!” as it ran over the floor.

    Needless to say, I walked the rest of the way to work.

    posted by Miss Priss on 10-7-2008 at 5:46 pm

19. My boyfriend and I went to Paris last year for my birthday, which just happened to coincide with the Rugby World Cup to be held there. With three hundred to four hundred thousand extra people in their city, the French decided this would be a dandy time for a transit strike. No busses, no trains, no Metro, and taxis were pretty scarce.

    Our second day in Paris, we started out walking from our hotel in Marais, went down past the Louvre, and down onto the Champs E’lysees. This is where we made our first fatal mistake of the day. We looked over to our left, saw the Eiffel Tower and said, “Oh, look! It’s just right over there! We can walk to it, no problem!”

    Here’s a little tip from me to you: no matter where you are, the Eiffel Tower is NOT just right over there. That thing is huge,it’s a monster, and usually much farther away than you think. Two and a half hours later, we stood under the Eiffel tower–sweaty, tired, and feeling really stupid.

    Now came the problem of how to get back to the hotel. It would be a long walk, and we were pretty tired already. We heard a rumor that some of the trains were running now, and so we figured we’d give it a shot. We waited at the nearest train station for close to an hour before giving up. Then we heard that there was another line running.

    We climbed five flights of stairs to get to the platform, and there were hundreds of people already there waiting. Now, I’ve taken the Tokyo subway before, so I’m okay with being crowded on a car with strangers, but this was starting to look a little scary.

    When the train arrived, it got even scarier. The cars were already at about double the normal “standing room only” capacity, and the people on the platform all started pushing forward. There was nowhere I could go but on the train. By the time the doors closed, we were packed in so tightly that I estimated I was physically touching about nine total strangers at once, most of whom I couldn’t see because I had my face buried in the armpit of a very nice gentleman from New Zealand. Most of the people in the car had just come from a rugby match, so there were scarves in team colors wrapped everywhere and jabs from pennants on little sticks.

    I could not move, not at all. The Kiwi gentleman was very accommodating about my face, and moved his arm to try to give me some more room. At every stop, more people were pushing into the car than those who were trying to wriggle out. About four stops into our ride, I started to notice a serious lack of oxygen in the car. There were so many people packed in that it was getting hard to breathe.

    I got myself half turned around at one stop as people got off, only to see a look of horror on my boyfriend’s face. He said, “There is a hand up my butt.”

    I said, “Yeah, someone’s touching mine, too.”

    “Not touching,” he said. “UP. INSIDE.”

    My Kiwi friend behind me waved his arm and said cheerfully, “It’s not me!”

    Thankfully, the next stop was ours, and we managed to squeeze painfully out of the car before the doors closed on us. We sat at the station, breathing heavily to replenish our oxygen supplies. My boyfriend closed his eyes and whispered, “There were two people behind me. One old and wrinkled woman who smelled like cheese, the other was a cute young Parisian girl. I don’t think you’ll blame me if I choose to believe it was the younger one who was holding onto me from the inside.”

    posted by Keri on 10-7-2008 at 6:02 pm

20. BART always provides great eavesdropping opportunities, but my story is from AC Transit.

    I rode the bus to and from work every day in the summertime. Usually, my bus wasn’t crowded, but one blazing hot afternoon, it was packed. I think those buses are supposed to hold about 35-40 people; we had around 55-60. Not only were there screaming children, there were older people about to fall over, duffel bags in the aisles, and people hanging on to every single handstrap and pole. Did I mention it was 90 degrees outside and AC Transit buses aren’t air-conditioned?

    It was like descending into hell.

    But now I enjoy the comfort of OCTA’s air-conditioned and fairly empty buses.

    posted by Harlequin on 10-7-2008 at 9:55 pm

21. I have, what I consider to be, one of the BEST public transportation stories. Roughly 10 years ago, my friend and I (now my husband, awwww), decided to take a trip from Albuquerque to San Francisco for New Years on a whim. New Years Eve, we are supposed to meet up with some friends in the Height Ashbury area. We decided that since we would be drinking heavily, we’d leave the car at Ft. Mason, and just bus it. We couldn’t find our friends (none of us had cell phones), so we decided to jump on the bus down to Fisherman’s Wharf.
    The two of us hop on the bus with the assortment of San Fran bus-goers, and at the next stop, some really drunk frat-boy types get on the bus. They’ve got a bunch of bags with them, and at some point they decided to pop open a bottle of champagne. The bus driver looks back at them in his mirror and calmly says, “Boys, are you aware that you cannot have an open container of alcohol in a vehicle?” He goes on for a bit about various laws and ordinances, and of course, they act confused. “Boys, I’m going to have to ask you to get off the bus immediately unless you’re willing to share that with everyone.” They look around, already drunk, and agree. I was about two seats away from them, noticed that nobody had sipped out of the bottle, so I reached out my hand and took a huge swig. It remains one of my favorite party stories.

    posted by Leeshka on 10-7-2008 at 10:04 pm

22. CAT is also Charlotte NC
    JeT is NOT NOT NOT New Orleans, its Jefferson Parish’s transportation, which includes many of NO burbs but is not technically part of the City of New Orleans, (kinda a big thing here in New orleans, because Louisiana law says that a city may not grow past its original parish (orleans for NO) otherwise, NO would have incorporated Metarie and all the other little burbs into the city YEARS ago.)

    posted by megs on 10-7-2008 at 10:11 pm

23. *the* BART? Never!

    posted by tote bags on 10-8-2008 at 12:26 am

24. Yikes – only got 15% on the quiz, but my public transportation horror story happened in another country… I lived in Mali, West Africa for two years, and sometimes I’d have to take a bache from the capital city to a village that I visited frequently. This trip would take 3 hours if I drove myself there in a regular truck, but on the bache (a big van, which in the U.S would hold maybe 7-10 passengers but in Mali would cram in 25-30 people, no exaggeration) the trip sometimes took up to 7 hours due to stops in various villages along the way for people to pray, shop in the markets, or fix the vehicle, which inevitably broke down 3-4 times along the way. On one particular trip, I was leaving the village to head back to the capital city, and I was sick from a stomach bacterial infection, so I was feeling nauseous and afraid that I wouldn’t be able to hold in what my body wanted out until a stop. On top of that, I was squeezed into a row of 5 people where 3 might fit semi-comfortably, and the rows were so close to each other that my knees were smushed into the seat in front of me and my hips felt bruised from people on both sides of me being pushed in so tightly. I managed to survive with no explosions, but time never passed so slowly & I was never so happy to arrive at my destination.

    posted by Julie Germain on 10-8-2008 at 8:04 am

25. Well, I missed checking in yesterday but I have a story of my own. Champaign-Urbana, IL’s MTD (the CUMtd, actually lol) is a great way to get around and I’ve used it off and on over the years. A coworker and I used to take the bus to work and were almost always the last ones to get off. The bus went north to the mall, made a loop through the mall (still closed this early) and continued south down Market Street. Our usual route, the usual thing, except for one young man in the back of the bus. As the bus made the loop through the mall, a Champaign police car pulled the bus over. The cop boarded, the thug bolted for the side door, the cop drew his weapon (I think. I’m sure he did. REgardless, we were scared sh*tless and hit the floor). The kid was detained and another cop showed up. the kid began to struggle and dropped a big bag of quarters out of his coat that just went everywhere. He had knocked off a pay phone. And made his getaway on the bus.

    posted by bettycat on 10-9-2008 at 11:38 am

26. Dude,I saw CAT on this quiz and I was like, “Finally! Arkansas gets recognized!”…Then I looked at the answers and realized, “Oh, no. We got the boot, again.” Come on, guys. CAT stands for Central Arkansas Transportation. Every year they have a free ride day to promote the CAT buses…I would be scared witless to ride on that day.

    posted by SpecialAgentBaker on 10-21-2008 at 3:58 pm

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