Public Transportation: The New Pick Up Bar

I don’t know why, but each time I either ride or am waiting for the bus on Friday night, I feel like I’m in a crowded bar being hit on. Now, dear readers, please keep in mind that I have never been hit on in a bar, so why does it happen on the bus? Ponder that for a moment while I tell you a story…

Friday, July 31st, my first night back at the IU Medical Library after a 7 month sabbatical. It was a good night. It was nice to be back in the library, practicing my craft. It was familiar. I catch the Route 10 bus by Wishard Hospital at 9:07 PM. The driver is always prompt, always friendly. I’m listening to some tunes on the iPod, minding my own business. It’s a short ride to downtown, where I have barely missed the Route 18. My desire to be home quickly is dashed against the limestone steps of the statehouse.

Luckily, I can still catch the Route 28 bus, but it’s not due for another 30 minutes. So, I find a seat, turn the iPod back on, and commence to listening to a random sampling of music…much of which I always seem to forward through. As I sit there, an older gentleman on a motorized scooter comes by and disturbs the metal drainage grate, and scares the bejeebers out of me. I give him the “What the…?” look.

He passes and situates himself next to the trashcan. Honestly, that would have been my last parking option, but it seems to work for him. He begins to talk to himself…loudly. So loudly, I have to turn up the volume. As I do so, I give him the “Inside voice!” look. He, being of a different generation, does not seem to respond to this look. Instead, he confuses it with what I am going to perceive to be a “Come hither” look. Strangely, I’m pretty sure I don’t have a “Come hither” look.

Needlesstosay, he zooms his scooter within five feet of me…definitely in my hula hoop space! He starts talking to me. Seeing as he is my elder, I later found out he was 60, I take my ear buds out. He talks…and talks…and talks.

He wants me to go to dinner with him. He thinks we should date. I think he is a raving lunatic and I can only hope for the sweet release the Route 28 bus can bring. Unfortunately, he is waiting on the same bus. Blasted! My escape plan is foiled.

He talks more on the bus. It’s loud. Thankfully, I can barely hear what he is saying. When I apparently nod when I should have made a squeak-type answer, he figures out that I can’t hear him and he talks louder. I debate getting off the bus before my stop, but luckily I look up and we’re only a block away. I’m anxious. I just want off the damn bus.

I jump off the bus as quickly as I can. It’s quiet. It’s just me and darkness. I can only hope that I do not see him tonight or that I can catch the Route 18 before it leaves.

Smell-O-Vision

What do you call a city bus packed to the gills with people and no air conditioning on an 85 degree day?

I call it the Route 28 bus, but some people might call it revolting.

I can honestly say that I never again wish to stand next to a guy who has been drinking and smoking and probably hasn’t showered in the past 3 days.

Mass Transit: A Look Elsewhere

I like to travel. Sometimes I get itchy and need to get away for a few days. I’m itching now and will be taking a few days starting tomorrow. The thing is, I’ll be driving. If you’ve read my other blogs, you already know I drive a Volkswagen Beetle, so fuel economy is pretty good. Plus, by riding the bus, I can afford a short trip every once in awhile.

When I travel, I try to pick cities that have decent mass transportation. I’ve seen both good and bad, rather horrible, so I thought I would write about my top three great experiences.

1. Seattle, King County Metro (http://transit.metrokc.gov/)
   Besides being an awesome area of our country, Seattle is home to one of the greatest mass transits that I know. The busses run on both diesel and electric, sometimes both, depending on the route; the drivers are friendly, sometimes even singing to patrons or pointing out landmarks for tourists; and they have a transfer policy that pales all by comparison.During the busiest times of day, drivers hand out slips of paper that indicates a two hour time period and that allows for a transfer to another bus or re-entry to the same bus. This is awesome for people who need to jump off for a quick grocery or laundry stop or for those who need to transfer to another bus route. IndyGo used to do this, transfers that is, but they charged you $.50. King County Metro is king!
2. San Francisco, BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit) (http://www.bart.gov/index.asp)
   First, what’s not to love about a city that has busses, subways, and trolleys! Oh, there’s also sunshine and mild temperatures, but hello trolleys!Their subways run from the San Francisco airport to downtown to Oakland across the bay…and actually beyond. It’s interesting in that you charge your pass with money and then depending on where you enter and then exit, the money is deducted. So, if you travel from Oakland to the city, the fee is more than if you traveled from downtown to Great American Ballpark, where the Giants play.The bus system travels just about everywhere, are relatively clean, and run on a pretty regular 30 minute cycle. The only bad thing, San Francisco is known for their homeless (just as Seattle is) and they tend to sleep on the busses…or they did when I was there…but they don’t bother you, they just want a warm place to sleep.

   Oh, did I mention trolleys? This is a great way to see the city. The trolleys are historic and come from various parts of the world, where mass transit has been the norm for awhile.

3. Chicago, CTA (http://www.transitchicago.com/)
   I like the fact that Chicago has an elevated train, the El, and that several of the trains make a circle around the downtown area. Sure, it’s loud and dirty, but it shows other large cities, like New York, that not everything needs to live underground.I also like that the trains pick up/drop off at the airports, always a plus for travelers and tourists, but that they go deep into the suburbs, even if you have to change routes. Plus, there are the busses (PACE) that pick up the slack.

   Additionally, there is the Transit Benefit Fare Program that gives employees, who ride transit, the opportunity to buy their passes with pre-tax income. Apparently, this a federal tax law designed to encourage mass transit usage. How is this being used in Indianapolis?

So you’re probably asking yourself, what about New York City? Well, their system is quite extensive and easily navigable, but it is large and quite possibly the oldest mass transit system in the U.S. It would take a miracle for Indianapolis to implement something on that scale. The three that I mentioned are doable. In fact, just improving IndyGo, ala Seattle Metro, would be a great start.

Sure, there are up and down sides to all examples and they are merely my opinion, but I ride transit in every city I visit. I encourage the executive, the mayor, and any other official to look beyond the Indianapolis metro area for examples. It’s not one size fits all, but it’s a start and that’s what we need.

Why IndyGo Sucks

I ride the bus. In fact, I try to ride the bus as often as possible to as many destinations as possible. Thing is, it isn’t always possible.

Last Saturday, I had just left the IU Medical Library. My shift ends at 9:00 PM and I have exactly seven minutes to walk a block…er, maybe a mini-block…to the bus stop. Typically, on Friday and Saturday nights, the bus is prompt. Apparently, last Saturday was not a typical night. I waited until 9:27 PM, but decided to call IndyGo for an explanation.

Behold! No one was available to take the call, so I left a message. I gave a specific description of the issue: the route number, the stop number as listed on the sign, the time, the number of people waiting for the particular bus, my name, and my phone number. I also asked that someone return my call. Good thing I’m not holding my breath waiting for the call because it will never come.

On Tuesday, I hopped the 28 bus to go to work. Much to my dismay, the bus was a recycled Blue Line Circulator bus, read small bus, that had been repurposed for the 28 route. Granted, the 28 is not the 10, but it is pretty busy during the morning rounds. In fact, that morning, there were seven people standing because no seats were available and others still needed to board.

My questions to the President of IndyGo are:

1. Why do you allow route drivers to be excessively late or to never arrive without posting a message to your web site or on the answering service? There are people in this city that rely SOLELY on this form of transportation. In fact, one gentleman had been waiting 30 minutes for the Saturday night bus because he needed to get to the farthest point on the Route 10 bus and he knew the last bus of the night, the 10:17 for the particular stop, would not travel that far.
2. Why do you repurpose the smallest busses for some of the busiest routes?
   Am I incorrect in thinking that having multiple people standing on the bus for their entire ride is safe and/or justified? What if someone in a wheelchair had boarded? The situation would have become even more dire.

With the prices of gasoline these days, more people are taking public transportation. Yet, little is being done to enhance or expand the current offerings. I’ve heard people say that they do not want to take public transit because they are dirty, the drivers are rude, the schedules are not enforced, or there isn’t a bus stop close enough to their home.

I agree with all of these statements. The closest bus stops to my home are 1.1 and 1.2 miles away, but I drive the distance to the bus stop and then board the bus for the rest of the trip. I’ve walked it a few times, but with our monsoon season currently underway it’s easier and safer to drive.

I would like to publicly invite Gilbert Holmes, the President/CEO of IndyGo, to contact me. I would like to discuss the policies of IndyGo and to invite him to ride the bus with me a few days and on a few different routes.

I have just the warm up route for him…Saturday night. Bring your best Kung Foo move, Mr. Holmes, you will put it to good use!

Hacked

Webster’s dictionary defines hacked (in one instance) as an intransitive verb meaning:

1. To chop or cut something by hacking.
2. Informal
   • To write or refine computer programs skillfully.
   • To use one’s skill in computer programming to gain illegal or unauthorized access to a file or network: hacked into the company’s intranet.
3. To cough roughly or harshly.

Let me just say that today, Monday, May 12, the website that I administer for work was informally hacked. Now, I say informally because, apparently, Websters thinks it is an informal verb. However, as the person who built this from the ground up, it was very formally hacked in the truest and most malicious sense of the word.

Who might hack a website that contains no personal information? I can only guess, but their IP address pointed to a server in China. Luckily, our host had off-site backups. However, I will admit that if I had kept up my own backups, the problem would have been eliminated immediately.

Lesson #1: Back up every Friday night, even if the host backs up also.
Lesson #2: Never talk about work on the weekend. Apparently, I jinxed myself yesterday saying how smooth my job is day-to-day.
Lesson #3: Trust no one online…especially if their IP address is China.

Just Vote!

Tuesday, May 6 is a historic day in the lives of all Hoosiers. For once in our modern lives, we are an important factor in deciding the next Democratic Presidential candidate. Since turning 18 years old, I have never witnessed so much excitement or so much interest in politics. Could it be that our red state is turning blue, or perhaps a shade of purple?

Unfortunately, I have not had the opportunity to attend a rally for either Obama or Clinton. Instead, I live vicariously through my neighbor, Sue, and her blog, Newspicture. As a camera person for a local news channel, she has witnessed many rallies and even had her picture taken with Hillary Clinton.

I am excited. I actually feel as if my vote will count and that my voice will be heard. So I say, exercise your American freedom and vote!

When Bus Riders Attack

When I wrote the post When Bus Drivers Attack, I didn’t think I would have a whole series of “attacking” posts. However, in retrospect, it only seems appropriate that I cover all bases.

Last Saturday night, I boarded the bus after my night shift at the IU School of Medicine Library. (I am a deranged Librarian in training, hope to be fully deranged by May 2009.) The bus was fairly crowded for a Saturday night. By Ohio Street and Capital Avenue, the majority of riders exited to catch other busses and few riders remained. This would change shortly.

The next bus stop is Ohio Street and Illinois Street. On this night, there is a large group, mainly teenage girls, crowded in the shelter and spilling into the street. They are loud…excessively loud. In fact, after everyone boards and the bus pulls away, I noticed a police car swoop behind the bus. I can only imagine it was to help deaden the shrill laughter, shouting, and general noise wafting from this area. It was deafening, but most of the noise boarded the bus and immediately went to the back.

I was sitting in the middle, next to a window; but it felt like I was sitting in the back with the noise. I was a teenage girl once, but I was never that loud…or rude.

At Ohio Street and Pennsylvania Avenue, we pick up a couple extra people, one of which was a drunk middle-aged man. This man was equally as loud, but for different reasons. He egged on the girls. The noise level increased. I wished that I could leave, but I now had someone sitting next to me.

And then Hell broke loose…

The drunk middle-aged man called one of the girls a “Ho” and this girl ran to where he was sitting and began hitting him. The bus stopped. Cell phones opened and 911 was dialed. The bus driver had no control over the situation and many people were stuck in the middle, literally, between the group of girls and the drunk man. It was insanity at its finest.

We sit. We sit so long that the drunk guy had yet another opportunity to mouth off again…this time to another middle-aged man sitting in the noisey section with the girls. This man chased the drunk man off the bus, but we continued to sit. As we waited for the Police, the drunk guy showed up and began kicking the bus and hitting its windows. It was like being on a demented amusement ride, but this one didn’t seem to have an end.

Finally, the Route Supervisor and the Police arrived. The Route Supervisor boarded the bus and reprimanded the girls. I kept thinking to myself, “Kick them off. Just kick them off.” No such luck.

There is one thing I’ve learned when dealing with teenagers, they fear nothing. Idle threats do nothing to squealch their behavior. In their world, there is only black and white…on and off…yes and no. There is no gray area and idle threats are gray.  For some reason, the bus driver did not feel empowered enough to kick them off the bus. Sure, calling the Route Supervisor was a great idea. Calling the police was an even better idea, but the girls should have been removed and their parents called. Detain each girl until their parents come to pick them up, teach them a lesson about how to ride the bus, and how to act in public.

Interesting note, the drunk middle-aged man was picked up by police for public intoxication. The girl that hit him was free to roam and ride the bus another day.

I boarded the bus at 9:07 that night. I exited the bus at 10:11. I was never so happy to be home.

When Busses Attack

A few weeks ago, on a blustery Saturday, I sat at the intersection of Indiana Avenue and 16th Street waiting for the traffic light to change. Diagonally across the street, there was a guy jumping and waving his arms wildly. Ocassionally, he would lurch into traffic, making drivers stop quickly. Looking around, I saw the bus slowly starting as it had also been stopped at the light. I figured to myself that the guy wanted to board the bus.

As the bus passed the intersection and approached the guy, the bus stopped. At the same time, my light turned green and I also passed through the intersection.

I drove past the bus and noticed that the guy was now laying in front of the bus on the asphalt and the bus’s front windows were shattered. I pulled my car to the side of the road and stopped to help.

I talked to the bus driver, who said the guy jumped in front of the bus. This didn’t surprise me since his behavior had been so irratic. The guy laid howling in pain, other drivers stopping to call the police, gawkers slowing traffic to a crawl.

Next, without warning and with a mention of the police, the guy jumps up and runs to the sidewalk where he falls down. He jumps up again and begins to run down the street. By running, I really mean hobbling as he was clearly hurt and bleeding from his head.

One of the onlookers jumps into her car and follows him down the street, where he apparently jumps into the backseat of an unlocked car. At the same time, the car owner opens the front door of her house and brings the guy inside. The ambulance and fire truck show up and go down the street to the address in question…the police still have not arrived.

People are whispering about the oddity of it all, me included. Thirty minutes later, the police arrive. They talk to the driver, they talk to the IndyGo route supervisor. By now, I am the only witness remaining, but they do not ask to talk to me. One officer goes down the street to get the man out of the house. I leave my name and phone number with the route supervisor, just in case.

I have heard the phrase “throwing oneself in front of a bus”, but I’ve never seen it in action…strange things and strange people.

When Bus Drivers Attack

Bus driver violence, now that’s not something you read about everyday. However, I witnessed it about 7:54 AM on the Route 10. Here’s the scenerio…

 Crazy-Creepy Dude (CCD) boards the bus. (I’ll post more about CCD later.) Today he selects yet another bus stop to make his entrance. What he didn’t know was that Regular Driver was in absentia, but CCD walks past the new driver anyway. His normal M.O. is to find a seat, dig through his strange configuration of belongings, and eventually pay the fare or swipe his card. He carries a bunch of stuff, so the excavation takes awhile.

Since New Driver was working the route and not familiar with CCD, the bus doesn’t move and the driver turns into Princess Leia in Tiny Swimsuit Jabba. She yells, “Sir! The fare is $1.50!” CCD, still digging, seems completely oblivious to Jabba’s rants. I almost expected her to throw him from the bus. Time seemed to stand still. Finally, he finds his card and swipes it. Instantly, Jabba Driver berates CCD about the rules of riding the bus.

1. Enter bus.
2. Pay fare or swipe card.
3. Do not pass white line before completing #2.
4. Find seat.

I’m not going to condone CCD’s behavior, especially since I think Regular Driver is a little relaxed with him. However, Jabba Driver was already 10 minutes late picking me up and after the CCD escapade was 15 minutes late overall. When you have a busload of people trying to make it to work and school on time, there is no time to lash out and delay the process further.

To add further insult to this already strange bus ride, an elderly woman, who probably weighed 85 pounds dripping wet, boarded the bus. She followed the proper bus entering etiquette. Before she could sit down, Jabba Driver takes off making the elderly woman fall…luckily, the elderly woman was close to a metal pole that broke her fall. She’ll probably have a substantial bruise on her arm and maybe her back. This poor woman, dressed so nicely, just wanted to make it safely to work…and bless her for still working!

Jabba Driver, check yourself before you wreck yourself…or the bus!

Miss Manners

My momma raised me to have manners. Dictionary.com defines manners as “the prevailing customs, ways of living, and habits of a people, class, period, etc.; mores.” The longer I live, the longer I have realize that we don’t really teach or require manners in our current society.

Growing up, I couldn’t leave the house without my mom saying, “Remember your pleases and thank yous!” By the time I was eighteen, I had heard this phrase so often that I would recite it along with her. It was her mantra for her children and it has become my mantra through life.

When I leave a voice mail, respond to an email, or am engaged in general conversation, I use “please” and “thank you” as often as I can and when appropriate. I know that with overuse, they become ineffective. However, I’ve discovered that some people do not have these words in their vocabulary.

For example, this morning while riding the bus into work, a gruff looking man switched seats by saying to an equally gruff looking woman, “Move over!” My first thought was, “I hope they know each other.” Apparently, as they exited the bus together, they did know each other; but the fact remains, there was neither a please nor a thank you in his imperative statement. On a somewhat crowded bus, this stands out.

People. They make me scratch my head and wonder.