TrainTribe
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My Train Tribe



My experiences with mass transit have been a real slice of heaven.

I wrote about my New Bus Tribe a month or so ago.

I think I left my Bus Mates with a description of Charlie and the two Viet Nam Vets.

Not much has changed with them, except that a drunk driver (I guess) knocked down the Bus Stop Sign Post at Charlie's stop, and now the bus driver has to slow down a block or so ahead of the old stop.

Charlie just kindda walks up and down the street in the area where the sign used to be - I'm sure the city will eventually replace the sign, and Charlie can find his spot again.

Lots of other excitement though, in the high class mass transit arena.

Last week, 4 suicides on the rails.


Amtrak got 2, The Coaster got 2.

Suicide by commuter train may be a fast, and I'm sure painless way to go, but it sure creates a bit of disruption - at the least - in the commuters' commute.

Last week's final suicide was a mashing by the southbound train, one train before the one I catch.

Coroner's gotta pick up the body parts scattered over a few square blocks, and then all of the paperwork, etc.

Jeeze BA - get to the point - don't you ever run out of hot air - you're such an old windbag!


Anyway, no southbound train from O-Side to Sorrento Valley.

- BUT -


The Coaster People provided a bus for the displaced Coaster passengers.

The bus provided, was a regular NCTD Bus, and when I arrived it was filling rapidly.

The Coaster area is about 500 yards from the NCTD Bus Terminal, so, even to my un-train-ed eyes, this was the replacement transportation for the stopped trains, and NOT one of the regular busses.

I was the next to last person to board the bus.

Everyone else on board looked familiar, the "Coaster Regulars."

- My Coaster Tribe, with whom I travel, with pride -


The last person to board was a typical bus rider, certainly not the yuppie white collar (except for me) type that rides The Coaster.

Naturally, the guy takes the last seat - just happens to be right next to me.

In fact, this guy was pretty drunk, and as the bus pulled away, he asks:

- "Mister, where's this bus going?" -


I said:
"It's gonna get on the 5 south - next stop, Sorrento Valley."


- I'm afraid to tell him that it's at least a 30 - 40 minute ride at this time of morning -

- Oh baby -


This guy had no clue that he was not on the regular bus, on which, for a $1.50, he could ride around all day, get on, get off at virtually any time, and if he were armed with a transfer, he could actually make it a round trip.

The southbound auto traffic on 5, at 7:00 am, ain't exactly full speed ahead, in fact it's more like my paddling speed - some of you have had the pleasure of watching me paddle out, and you have fallen asleep during my protracted paddle-outs -

BA - you're old, you're out of shape, you paddle like a pussy, what else is new?


Anyway - I'm watching the guy next to me play poker against himself, using all the hand jive and movements like a Vegas Dealer.

His hands are twitching - so is he!

He crosses and uncrosses his legs, and wiggles around like my sons used to do when they were 3 years old.

IT'S PEE-PEE TIME!!


We're stuck at 5 and Manchester - still a long way to go before Sorrento Valley.

I can't move - he's on one side, and Mr. Shamu is on the other side of me -

I'm stuck in the back of the bus, between Shamu and the pissing card shark.


He keeps asking me: "Mister, when are we gonna get there?"


He has no idea where "there" is - but it's gotta have a bathroom.

I'm thinking it's too late for the potty -

We finally arrive at the Sorrento Valley stop -

I get off, he gets off, and Heidi, a hottie and co-rider on the Coaster, gets off.

Three of us.

Heidi wants me to hurry and get to the shuttle bus, but my wet friend needs some more help.

He asks me: "Where the bathrooms?"


"I don't know, but across the tracks are a couple of restaurants, maybe one of them is open?"

He says:
"I can't cross the tracks. If I do, God will stike me dead!"


Luckily, Heidi was more familiar with the territory than I, and she pointed to some Porta Potties on our side of the tracks.

I introduced my Dribbling - Wet Pants - Buddy to the Transit Guard, and Heidi and I scooted across the tracks to Shuttle Bus Number 967.

The last I saw of my bus mate, was he was standing in a puddle of pee, getting some travel advice from the Transit Cop.

Later,

BA

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The link to my "BS Page" is:  BA's BS Page

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© 2003 bill andrews and adaywithba.com - All rights reserved, and I reserve the right to be stupid.


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Opps Forgot Some Stuff:

Thought I'd better add some disclaimers:

* All of the tales I'm spinning are based upon facts of some sort.
* Most of the tales will be at least 50% factual.

I'm doing this web thing for a few reasons, and it is, and will be, "a work in progress" for a while:

1. It's an easy way for me to organize my "autobiography" so my kids will know a bit more about me.
2. I find this computer and internet stuff fascinating.
3. I was lucky to be able to start surfing - at least in my opinion - in the "Golden Age" of surfing - I do have some yarns to spin regarding those times.
4. This is an efficient way for some of the old guys to touch bases again - I've received a few e-mails from old (err, long-time) friends I've haven't seen in forty years or so - I think that's way cool.
5. I'm still surfing almost every day - and, at least in my opinion - that's a pretty "boss" thing to write about.
6. I think it will be nice, in a couple of years, to maybe look back at how good - or bad - the surf was in any given stretch of time.

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© 2003 bill andrews and adaywithba.com - All rights reserved, and I reserve the right to be stupid.