Tag Archive: MTA


New York Daily News, February 7th, 2019

FULL TEXT:

L train riders and transit workers continued to be canaries in the MTA’s coal mine Wednesday.

Three MTA workers had to be hospitalized after hours spent inhaling the same sickening stench that caused a brief shutdown the day before.

The workers fell ill from the heavy fumes — and later on, Transport Workers Union Local 100 officials began distributing masks to station agents.

“They’re telling them the smell is still here. Some guys are saying, I’m starting to feel a little lightheaded,” a subway source said. “Another person is saying, ‘It’s making me nauseous.’”

State Department of Environmental Conservation officials Wednesday found water with “sheens” that seeped into the subway, giving off a smell an agency spokeswoman called “aged petroleum odors.” MTA officials believe it’s heating oil.

The gas smell seemed to hit riders the hardest between the Graham Ave. and Grand St. stops, lingering through to the Bedford Ave. station.

Despite the all-clear to start service back up Tuesday, riders and transit workers were still being affected by the stink overnight and through Wednesday.

“It’s scary,” said Joe Vincent, 55, a bartender from Williamsburg, Brooklyn. “Gas like this, you don’t know what it’s going to do to you.”

Gillian Lavictoire, 33, who was with her 5-year-old daughter at the Graham Ave. station, said it was an awful smell, though it’s dissipated over the previous couple of days.

“If it’s a health and safety matter, they should shut it down,” she said.

Ralph Russo, who lives across the street from the Graham Ave. station entrance, said he was unable to sleep in his street-facing bedroom. He thought the gasoline-like smell was unsafe.

“I had to lock the doors and sleep in the living room,” Russo, 77, said. “It was terrible. I couldn’t deal with the smell.”

One TWU station agent working at Graham Ave. bought his own mask after he began to feel ill on duty, a Local 100 source said.

A train conductor was also witnessed wearing a paper mask while on duty.

“It’s terrible,” he said.” I got a headache.”

~ B ~

Please be green, only print this e-mail if absolutely necessary

“You cannot play God then wash your hands of the things that you’ve created. Sooner or later, the day comes when you can’t hide from the things that you’ve done anymore.”

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On the subway

There is no place like New York and nothing like the NYC subway system. I have determined there are three types of people that talk to me on the subway.

There are the people who ask for money. From what they say, none of them do drugs, none of them drink, all have suffered some unimaginable tragedy and can’t get government assistance.

There are the people asking me for directions. “Do I look like Google maps?”

There are the people offering to help find your train, this is usually followed by a request for money, so they could fall into the first category. What is really annoying is some of them feel they need to lead you to the correct train and “STOP TOUCHING ME”. I should get a medal for not stabbing people.

Then there is your random crazy person, like the tall skinny black man that told me I was “a white whore and you’re going to die of AIDS and cancer.” And the woman who offered me oral sex. She was convinced I would love it and I was just, “Ew no, germs.” Like I said, I should get a medal.

Perfection

Is not attainable in its true sense. But what about relative perfection? Sunday I had to go to Brooklyn, after telling myself over and over again that I needed to leave earlier than I left Saturday, I ended up leaving later. Then when I got to Lexington and 59th I waited for the Q train, and waited and waited. I saw a girl going to the same event I was going to and we started talking about “No Q train” trying to figure out another way to get there and she said, “It always happens on the day you need everything to be perfect.” Perfect for us at that moment was making all our train connections smoothly, at the proper station and without waiting. We made it to Brooklyn, but we were late.

Today was another special event I planned to go to. For this event I didn’t have to go to Brooklyn, but I had to dress up pretty, do my hair and makeup and hopefully not be sick feeling. I woke up with cramps I thought they were stomach cramps from my soup the night before and thought maybe I was developing an allergy to black beans. One of my great-nieces is allergic to black beans. As I was getting ready for work I realized they weren’t stomach cramps and I wasn’t going to be feeling well for the special event in the evening. Then when I came home from work early so I could ready, I was going to iron my dress and make dinner, instead I sat down on the couch and fell asleep. I barely had time to take a bath and get dressed. Fortunately my friends are not critical. But I was not happy.

Perfection, not attainable in any form.

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I didn’t want to go to work, so I stopped for breakfast at DD

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Queensboro Plaza

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The #7 train

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View from my office window

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View from another office window

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Ugh, there’s a crowd waiting for the train. This actually turned out to be not so bad, the train was almost empty when it finally got here.

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I stopped at Sephora to check out eyeliner colors. I didn’t buy any ….

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I had an orange for dinner.

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I found these bottles in the recycle bin, I’m cleaning them up and taking them to be filled with ‘our beer’.

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And the labels came off in one piece.

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Outside my apartment door.

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There is still snow in the playground, park.

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I keep forgetting the subway stairs are being repaired.

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My eczema is getting worse. Need to use my cream more.
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Finally headed home.

Riding the bus

Yesterday I rode the bus, it is an event that happens with sufficient infrequency to be noteworthy. It would never have happened if I knew how to cook sausage in a non-stick pan. I suppose I could blame that on my mother, since she had a cast-iron skillet and taught me how to cook sausage and eggs in that instead of a non-stick pan. Or maybe I could blame it on the fact that I now eat chicken or turkey sausage and there is not as much fat draining out into the pan. The fact remains that I ruined my pan cooking sausage in it and when I told Em I wanted to buy a cast-iron skillet she suggested going to Home Goods after the game yesterday.

20130816-023001.jpgWe took the B train from Yankee Stadium to 103rd, from there we walked to Home Goods, where I found a small cast-iron skillet, mission accomplished! I also saw these green Ramekins which I had to have. They are oven safe to 500°F (260°C) and also microwave, blowtorch and dishwasher safe, except I don’t have any of those. Really! I don’t have a blowtorch, never needed one. Em said they would not be a frivolous purchase because I would make baked eggs in them. I was thinking they would be good for single servings of baked Macaroni and cheese myself, or for heating up macaroni and cheese since I don’t have a microwave. Then we stopped at Model’s for socks, which they didn’t have. After that we went to eat Mexican food.

Em was ready to walk to Grand Central, I was ready to go home, but we were on the west side and I didn’t want to walk across the park since I always get lost walking across the park. Don’t ask and don’t judge. Also I was carrying this heavy cast-iron pan, 4 green Ramekins and 3 yellow bananas. And my knee hurt. That was when I got on the bus. If you’ve been reading this blog you may know that I hate the bus more than the train. Even when a friend tells me, “If you take the bus from church it will drop you right by your apartment.” I will still walk the two blocks to the Green Train and then walk the two blocks back to 2nd Ave. The Crosstown bus is not that bad. However once I got off the crosstown bus I walked up 2nd Avenue home. Which is how I ended up with a bottle of Aleve (that I needed) and a bottle of shampoo (that I didn’t really need but Ricky’s sucked me in).

While riding the bus I was struck by the thought that public transportation in NYC represents the diversity of the city. At one stop a man got on wearing a pale suit and straw Fedora (a different type of hat I would have said he was a southern gentleman), followed by a woman wearing a skirt and shirt (not quite pulled together businesswoman attire, looking pissed off, I wonder if the southern gentleman made a chauvinist comment to her), then a middle aged man wearing shorts and a Mets shirt (EWWW!), a teenage boy was next (he might have been with Mr. Met). There was also this ancient woman with hair down her back that looked like one big dreadlock (please don’t sit too close to me).

At least it was better than the subway ride to the stadium when I saw two women not wearing bras that should have been. One had on one of those strapless dresses that are cute if you’re not a DD cup, the other woman was wearing a white racerback tank top. My eyes, please my eyes hurt after that.

GulagIn The Gulag Archipelago (which is about the Russian prison system, and which I have decided to abandon at page #132) Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn talks about the periods of mass arrests. He refers to them as rivers, the wave of 1929 and 1930, the size of a good River Ob, and later 1944 to 1946, the size of a good Yenisei. The other day as I waited for the train, I thought about what an accurate description of people that was, because the people keep coming not caring what is in their way. If it is something big, they move around it, something small, and they just run over it, push it out of the way. Even if that thing is a person, like me.

This is what happens in the train, people come like a river, they keep coming even when there is no more room. Even when I want to shout, “There’s no more room in here! Wait for the next train!” On the subway platform when the train has been delayed they keep coming, they look down the stairs at the mass of people and think, “There’s room for one more.” Except everyone looking down is thinking the same thing, so instead of one more there is ten more, then ten more after that.

Don’t do it, just take the bus.

I stopped writing about my commute because I was tired of writing the same thing everyday. I figured everyone must be tired of reading it too. Then I changed to the #4 and it just sat there! There were 5 million people on the train and it only holds 2 million etc. Anyway, things have changed in my commute.

The first thing is my route to the subway station has changed. This is the sidewalk I normally walk on to get to the subway. I don’t know what they are doing here but the sidewalk is almost completely blocked off. This picture was taken on my way home, in the morning the workers are there and you can’t walk up nearly this far. So they have made a ‘pedestrian walkway’.
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Which is just cones put out on the road to re-direct traffic, and this is a rather narrow road, it makes more sense to walk on the sidewalk on the other side of the street. Which I would do except,
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IMG_1558They are working on the entrance to the subway, so I have to cross the street anyway. So walking down to 96th Street is really the best way to go except, there is a fruit stand at 95th and 3rd where I like to get my breakfast, and being human I am a creature of habit and automatically turn left at 95th street. I also don’t like having to change my routine. After two years of walking the same way to the subway I have to do something different and it annoys me. So I come here to vent and to post pictures, I am really just trying to get back into the habit of writing so if this bores you or YOU are annoyed that with all the bad things happening lately I am going on about having to change my routine, I’m sorry I’m not sorry. Meaning I don’t feel bad about writing this. Because of all the bad that happened last week, I need to get back to my routine and the MTA is not helping! If you are still reading this, thank you for reading and I promise I’ll get better.

Back to the subway

There are three things I love about the subway, and by love I really mean hate. Actually there are more than three things I hate, but these are kind of always things. Some things just bother and annoy me, these things, when they happen bring the rage to the top of my head. While I have thought about violence as a response to them, my brain reminds me that a) violence is not an appropriate response and b) you worked in prison, and therefore know you don’t want to live there.

The first thing is when the train is crowded and five people get off and ten people get on. So I’m getting squished and people are pushing up against me to move in, normally I’m standing against a metal pole, the metal poles don’t move! So stop pushing on me people because I can’t move my body is squished against this metal pole.

The second thing is, well let me explain first: if you have never been on the NYC subway, the seats are benches. Some are molded so there are ‘seats’ on them, some are just flat. Sometimes a person will sit down, in a space big enough for two people in the middle (I’m not talking about someone big enough to need two spaces, I have no problem with someone taking all the space they NEED) so there is not enough room on either side of them for another person. Most of the time, if you come over and start to sit they will move over, sometimes it leads to the third item in my list.

People who stand in front of an empty space. There is room for someone to sit down, or would be if the person moved over, but they don’t because this other person is just standing there. They aren’t sitting, for whatever reason, but they are blocking others from sitting down! Makes the rage come up to the top of my head. “EXCUSE ME SIR/MA’AM, DO YOU REALIZE YOU ARE BLOCKING A SEAT A LOOK LIKE A GIGANTIC JERK?”

**climbs off soapbox and packs it away for the next time**

My feet hurt

After walking 26+2 (that’s 26 blocks up and 2 over) blocks from the subway, in my new dress shoes, in the rain, my feet hurt, however it is making me forget the pain in my back. It’s a long story and it involves the evil green train on the subway line from hell.

My book was in at the library, or so the e-mail said, however when I got to the library it wasn’t in the hold room, and learning that I needed to go up to the customer service desk, where I had already been and had been sent away, I just decided to leave. I snuck out through the side door so the nice lady at the information desk wouldn’t see me. Some of the people at that library are nice, some are ….. not. Em sent me a text asking me to reschedule her appointment at the nail salon, since I was already in mid-town I stopped at the salon, then I walked to 33rd and Park to get on the subway. Not having received any alerts about the 6 train I was expecting a normal commute home.

As I approached the gate I could see a train at the platform, and it was packed, people were hanging out of it, the platform was as packed at the train. 3 trains later I was able to squeeze on, and I do mean squeeze. There was no way I could reach a pole or a door or anything to hand onto, so I was trying to balance and sway with the crowds. A couple of stops into the ride a seat opened up, people were still jam packed in, but at least I could sit, until we got to 68th street, when the train was put out of service.

This sounds really cold of me but I have to say it, DON’T GET ON THE SUBWAY IF YOU’RE SICK! Or if you have the slightest idea you might get sick, don’t get on the train. PLEASE! Yes I realize someone could be perfectly fine and suddenly have an attack of scurvy and need medical attention, but most of the time I am sure it is a person who isn’t feeling well and just had to go …. somewhere …. on the subway, and then realized they were too sick to travel. Just, stay off the fucking train if you’re sick!

We got off the packed train to an equally packed platform and it took me at least 10 minutes to get to the exit, people were inching along, there were so many people on the platform that the people leaving had to wiggle along single file. I had to get out of the crowd, my claustrophobia was approaching panic levels, also I could see myself having to wait for 3 more trains before I could squeeze on, and I had no idea how long that would take. So I got out, figured out which way was Uptown and started walking. When my feet started to really hurt I thought I could stop, then I remembered I had no money to stop and kept walking. If I had been wearing my sneakers it wouldn’t have been so bad, but I just bought new shoes and wanted to wear them. After all I don’t do that much walking at work so I could break in the shoes there, well they got broken in, so did my feet. Even in my crocs I’m hobbling around my apartment.

Once again I say, I hate the green train. 😛