MetroRiderLA

[tags] Metro, 14, mad, passenger [/tags]

In a string of events that culminated with the casting off of a passenger last evening I couldn’t help but wonder—Why? The street, Beverly blvd . The bus, 14. The overall feel. Amusing azz.

Immediately after opening the doors at Curson you could hear that oh-so-specific sound of a man pissed off at Metro. He boarded and stood near the bus driver explaining the absurdity of his lateness. And though I couldn’t quite recall his exact phrasing he seemed to want to emphasize his crotch and watch. Whether he was expecting it to be written up in MetroriderLA so that his actions would rhyme is still to be determined.
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[tags]transit tv, pbs, nbc, telemundo[/tags]

Indeed you’re right Fred, when I saw the NBC segment on Transit TV I flipped out. Couldn’t believe my eyes. Though I’m not sure why, local news is almost as much of a joke, but I guess how close that “almost” is, is what really matters. But no matter how close, I was happy all the same. Read on for this and all other things Transit TV for this past week.
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This week Transit TV seems to have hired some MTV marketing genius’ cuz it’s all about sex baby. Read on for some risque stuff involving hot tubs, Christie Brinkley and Don Cheetle, but first…

P. Allen Smith tells us to cut all the mushrooms off downed trees before you lean them against your house or any other building. Then use the mushrooms to fill any left over strawberry boxes you might have lying around. He also tells us that picking flower bulbs is like picking cantaloupe at the market, ask a foreigner.

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In an attempt to legitimize while equally mocking everyone’s favorite amenity, Transit TV, I’ve decided to take it upon myself to create a weekly programming recap of all the wonder that is the obviously Orlando, FL based company. Yes, that means I actually tried to pay attention to the racket instead of ignoring it, from time to time that is for it’s impossible to pay attention always and not feel a tumor growing. This is the first in a series of posts, so like Friends, it’ll only get more detailed and better over time… then run its course and get old, whiny and repetitive. But until then, and in no particular order, here we go!

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If you don’t drive, the possibility of an angry Armenian jumping out of his ‘98 white Mercedes C class and charging at you after he cuts you off is quite slim. Though not to put it past the athletic suit wearing offender, I just think the chances are less, not impossible, for such a confrontation to occur while riding the bus or train.

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On a typical weekday after work I cross Pico ready to twist hood ornaments off twitchy black Mercedes’ that radiate waves of bluetooth or have my knees broken by blood-thirsty white delivery vans. So far I’ve been been lucky and always make it across to the bus stop unscathed. Happy to have working knees I breathe in some fresh nitrogen-laden golf course air and do some jumps on the chain link fence as I wait for the Big Blue Bus #7 eastbound to the Rimpau Terminal. This past Tuesday I had the most pleasant of surprises.
bus slows.
bus stops.
I enter.
flash EZ pass.
jaw drops as I’m suddenly overcome with a wave of relaxation. I feel like I’ve just stepped into a private intergalactic shuttle headed for the safety of my home planet. I’m bathed in perfectly tinted blue light. All of the usual hideous disinfectant-grade flourescent lights in the front 2/3 of the bus have been internally gelled the trademark Santa Monica blue. Big Blue Bus is right! Though it doesn’t take long for pessimist side to kick in and ask “why the hell aren’t all the buses like this?”.
And that’s where it stands, why not? WHY NOT!?