a little late and irate

(Hey! My blog was a year old last month and I didn't even realize it! Okay. At 12noon today I'm throwing myself a Blog Birthday Party. I'll celebrate by surfing the internet.)

Isn't it cliche to bitch about the transit problem in New York? Tough. This might be the most cliche thing you've read all week. Leave this website now if you can't handle the obviousness of it all.

FUCK YOU, MTA. Seriously. FUCK youuuuu. I actually hate you. I'm talking actual hate. And I'm not the only one, ya hear? At one point this morning, during my hairy, ugly commute (a commute who's only consistency all week long, whether I'm coming from Brooklyn or Queens, has been its close resemblance to every horror film I've ever seen) I glanced around me at the sweaty New Yorkers becoming more miserably acquainted by the second with platform they'd been damned to wait on all morning long, at the train passengers sitting on the stalled-and-definitely-not-leaving-the-station-any-time-soon train for what would probably end up being another ten (FUCK YOU, MTA!) minutes, at the people people everywhere who just want to get to work you awful transit system - we just want to get to OUR JOBS - and I noticed that at least a quarter of the people were visibly shaking their heads in silent, defeated disgust. It's a common sight to see a disgruntled straphanger shaking their head in silent, defeated disgust. And that, my dear transit authority, means YOUR SYSTEM ISN'T WORKING SO WELL.

When I can generously estimate that 25% of the people who use your system are unhappy with it, you need to rethink your business model. If you were a real business, an actual business that ran and functioned the way capitalism dictates that most american businesses function, you'd have been run into the ground by now. But we don't have a choice, we citizens of this fair city. Do we. And you take advantage of that like we're a school girl in ripped prom dress who's had too many wine coolers. You suck. You suuuuck. YOU SUCK. I actually fantasize about physically harming your employees. That's no good. That doesn't a peaceful city make. You create a rage and an anger in all of us that just doesn't need to exist. Because we're pissed off enough having to pay upwards of $12 for a sandwich and bottle of water.

In 2006, the US Census estimated that there are approximately 8 million people in New York City. That's a lot. So I'm gonna do some layman's math right now, just for shits. Let's say 1 million of those people use the subway per day. I'm sure it's more like 3 million, but I want to be really generous with my estimation. So if 1 million of them ride the subway ONCE a day (it's probably more like twice, but again, I'm trying to you paint you in the best possible light, MTA) that's $2 million PER DAY in your pocket. That's $10 MILLON PER WEEK IF WE DON'T COUNT SATURDAY AND SUNDAY. THAT'S $40 MILLION PER MONTH. ARE YOU TELLING ME YOU CAN'T PUT, OH, TWO MORE TRAINS ON THE TRACKS DURING MY MORNING COMMUTE FOR $40 MILLION A MONTH? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? ARE YOU USING ACTUAL PAPER DOLLAR BILLS TO FILTER THE COFFEE IN YOUR OFFICE KITCHEN OR POT THE PLANT AT THE RECEPTION DESK OR PAPER THE WALLS OF YOUR CONFERENCE ROOM?

FUCK. YOU.

And naturally, the real solution is for me to leave my house 15 minutes earlier each morning. I feel rather indignant about that - I shouldn't HAVE to - but fine. Just because I can conceivably get somewhere on time in 30 minutes doesn't mean that the MTA WANTS TO MAKE ITSELF USEFUL FOR THINGS LIKE EFFICIENT TRANSIT. Good thing they do other helpful things like have nice stations and functioning speaker systems in their - wait a minute. So I suppose I must choose to begin to account for their delinquency by cutting into my precious morning minutes and leaving earlier. That does not seem worth $2 a ride to me.

Phew. I feel a centimeter better. If you read that whole thing, you win.

In other less irate news, I'm thrilled it's Friday. I need to catch up on some sleep. Had a nice chat with the ol' bf last night, but we were up pretty late. He's a gem though, that guy. I'm pretty crazy about him.

Tonight: A show I've been meaning to see. Tomorrow: The beach! Sunday: We rest.