An exciting event has recently occurred in my life. I have officially purchased my first motor vehicle. I am the proud owner of an emerald green 1995 Plymouth Neon Sport. Now, I italicize the “Sport” to place emphasis on the sheer impressiveness of this vehicle. My baby comes fully loaded with hand-crank windows, busted, bass-blown speakers and 4-cylanders banging out 2.0 liters fury!
Now I know this might be a lot of car talk for some of you ladies out there, so I feel the need to let you know that about 99 percent of my description is facetious. I bought a 13-year old piece of shit. And like any 13-year-old girl, she has a bad attitude. And I’m OK with that. It will get me from point A to point B on my own schedule. No more public transportation for Jess!
Since I’ve started college, I’ve taken the train nearly every day of my life. Don’t get me wrong, I know that public transportation has its merits. I know that taking the train is better for the environment. When I took the train I didn’t have to frantically drive around North Philly looking for a hoodlum-free parking spot. I got a good work out walking to and from the train stations twice a day, everyday. But ladies, as someone who has been tied to someone else’s schedule for years, the time has come for me to Carpe The Chrysler and take the wheel, as it were.
The train also has its drawbacks, of which I am entirely exhausted. While weighing out the pros and cons of driving to school next semester, I compiled a few gem “cons” that ultimately pushed me over the edge and into the driver’s seat:
1. The R-LATE – The Southeastern Pennsylvania Transportation Authority (SEPTA) has named all of its regional rail lines by number. The trains go from R-1 to R-8. My train route, the R-8 is consistently about 10 minutes late. Which has led patrons to affectionately rename the route the R-LATE.
2. The Premature Evacuator – Most of the time when I’m riding the train, I’m exhausted and in no mood. I take the train bright and early in the morning, or after a long day of school and work. I just want to sit down and not be bothered by anyone. However, I normally end up sitting next to that guy who just has to get up out of his seat and stand in the aisle five minutes before his stop… as if there was going to be a mad dash for the door when the train stops and he has to fight off a slew of crazed commuters. The Premature Evacuator is a pain in the ass because when he wants to get up, you have to get up, pick up all your crap and maneuver into the aisle all the while attempting to maintain your balance while train is still moving to let him out. This is not a good time.
3. The Bag Lady – This one really pisses me off. The bag lady rides the train with all of her belongings. Literally. She carried with her every last article of her personage. In 34 bags. She carries her belongings in shopping bags, obnoxious totes with poodles embroidered on them, or my personal favorite, wheeled suitcases. She would not be entirely bad if she put her bags under the seat, or I don’t know… maybe on the LUGGAGE RACK ABOVE THE SEATS… but she doesn’t. She places all of her shit on the seat next to her, ultimately taking up two seats … during rush hour. She also refuses to move her shit to let you sit down. My theory is, I paid for a seat, her SuperFresh bags did not. I win!
4. The Creeper Conductor – Everyday, without fail on the 7:51 morning train is Michael the Creeper Conductor. Michael wears his button-down used-to-be-white-but-is-now-the-color-of-ashtray-remnants conductor’s shirt unbuttoned at the top, exposing a chest about as firm as brie and a few hairs resembling those straggly strangers left on a bar of soap. He has dirt under his fingernails. His hair is wild and unkempt. He seems so unenthused with his job … actually he gives off an air that he hates his life. I’m almost afraid to look at him because I’m pretty sure one day the police will ask me to identify him for blowing up a train car.
5. The Chatty Cathy – These always seem to find me. I always seem to sit next to that lady that wants to tell me the story about how her cat vomited all over her porcelain doll collection. She might just be lonely. She might be a bit senile. Hell, under normal circumstances I might find her intriguing. But before 8 a.m., before my first cup of coffee, and before my undoubtedly ridiculously long day has even begun, honestly I just want you to shut the fuck up and let me ride the train in peace.
~- Jess Geoghan
jageoghan@gmail.com
Philadelphia, PA
