It's been some time since I've written about my public transportation woes. Allow me to run through some of the recent hilights.
On Thursday of this week all Chicago Loop trains slowed to a crawl. The squawky intercom announcements vaguely attributed the delays to "interlocking problems." My friend Willow called that afternoon to warn me, having just emerged from four-and-a-half hours of captivty on the Brown Line. I agreed to call her back after work to comisserate, thankful for the tip. But the Damen bus that evening was inhabited by a pack of gangsta- wannabe high schoolers talking smack so loud that neither of us could hear. Whatever happened to taking the school bus, yo?
A couple of weeks ago I was heading home on the bus when some asshole out on Western Avenue threw a brick through the front windshild. It made a loud popping sound not unlike a bullet- for a moment no one was sure what had happened to send all the night's debris scurrying down the aisle. Sitting by a window, I had the distinct impression that my skull was made out of glass. Now I know how the Visible Woman feels.
The driver pulled over to the curb to call the cops. While we waited one rider managed to work herself into a rocking-crying tizzie. The cop that showed up was a total creep, asking the driver the same questions over and over again in a combattive tone as if she were the culprit. Thankfully, no one was physically hurt.
It made a loud popping sound not unlike a bullet- for a moment no one was sure what had happened to send all the night's debris scurrying down the aisle.We all crowded on to the next bus to arrive, while the police "interrogation" was being filed. I sat facing a potbellied guy with a bulging Quimby's bag, which as you knnow if you shop at Quimby's, makes the ginormous breasts of the superheroine printed on the front look even bustier, though lumpier perhaps... Unable to take this rider for an indie comix enthusiast, I spent the remainder of the trip trying to guess what kind of porn he'd purchased,
