photo: SUBWAYbloggerDear Metro Mother Fucking Transit Authority, *
I hate you. And I mean "hate" in a deep, down, scary kind of way.
Whomever is in charge of watching subway traffic patterns and rider usage, needs to be fired. Like, now. As in, go to this chump/chumpess's cubicle, stand there with your arms crossed, and glare at this useless mofo as they pack up their shit. This clueless, lame ass douche is clearly spending their days watching youtube videos about cute kittens or doing sudoku puzzles. They must be. Because they are NOT paying any sort of effing attention to rider traffic patterns....like at ALL.
Let me set the scene for you:
7th Avenue (Q/B) Subway stop in Brooklyn
any and every weekday morning from 7am to 9am
- Wall to wall freakin people on the Manhattan bound platform
- One dude with a hello kitty murse on the Brooklyn bound platform
- Brooklyn bound Q/B trains whizzing in and out of the station every couple of minutes as if they were on their way to a Coney Island house party
- Painful, long ass waits of 15 mins+ between trains on the Manhattan bound side (The hello kitty dude left 13 mins ago)
- Manhattan bound platform begins to reach fire hazard status (an old woman with a walker just kicked a baby in its stroller onto the tracks and everyone cheered because it freed up another 4 inches of platform space)
- FINALLY...a Q train comes sputtering into the station
- Son of a mother fucking bitch. The bitch ass train is so crowded, a starving coked up supermodel couldn't squeeze her anorexic self on to that shizzy
- Cursing, air punching and dirty staring commence by all left on the platform
Let me be clear--I am not dissing the Q train in its fully functional state. It's dirty as hell, but its fast and convenient and always gets me where I need to be. I don't want a refund or anything, and I'm saving all of my comments regarding all of the other things that are completely effed up about the subway for another time.
Send more Q trains. Period. That's all I want. And I'm pretty sure I can speak for the rest of my Q Brooklyn comrades and say that's all they want too.
Here's a clue on a silver fucking platter. Now get it.
Quitting the Q,