oh the MTA, my relationship with thee is like to that of a lover, with moments of intense joy, followed by near-tears sense of betrayal and wondering of why you never come round anymore. yesterday i endured a painful and emotional hour-long wait for the bus home, due to an accident in
westwood. no buses for an hour, then all of a sudden a burst of them, a clutch, of three 2 buses and a pacoima-bound rapid. maybe next time, my friends, you could call the other 2 buses and let them know STAY OUT OF THE ACCIDENT AREA so they could turn around earlier and not throw off the schedules of everyone along the 2 busline stretching from
westwood to downtown for the next hour. this is the future, friends. let's use technology. i almost cried the last time i had to wait for the 2 at this very stop for almost an hour (after a similarly frustrating wait at the non-existent, no stop not even a stone to stand on in beverly hills moments earlier) at the end of a very very long and stressful day two weeks ago. COME MORE OFTEN, BUSES. COME MORE OFTEN.
but then this morning, i took the red line to
north hollywood, and after momentary confusion (they lack about one key sign to make it really clear) found the orange line, and delightedly took it for the first time to the valley. it took less than an hour door to door, very awesome! the orange line is really pleasant to ride on as well, as its corridor is beautifully landscaped and there is no traffic. ah-the way buses should be. given their own lane! delightful! on the way back to the office, waited less than fifteen minutes for the next orange line bus, maybe ten minutes for the subway, and maybe two minutes for the one-stop trip i take on the rapid from
macarthur park to the office. joyful transit riding on a beautiful sunny day. only blight was a surly white guy whose shoes were coming apart (a sure sign of poverty, i believe) who was grumbling about various things including talking crap about the cheerful latina ladies who were happily chatting and comparing jewelry in the front of the bus. why hate on friendly smiling ladies? no reason to do it. but all in all, a very pleasant transit experience. timing is obviously key in the enjoyment of transit ridership.
other small notes: a tiny black woman all in black waiting for the subway with totally overwhelming lion's mane of bouffant orange hair, a woman with a very well-mannered small dog in her lap on the bus, a latino father and young son in matching fancy clothes and slicked up fauxhawks, a painfully traffic-y bus ride from
west hollywood to
usc for a meeting made much more palatable by the exceeding friendliness of the driver, who seemed to know 3/4 of the regulars taking the bus, small birds making their homes above the lights at the entrance to the
north hollywood stop, a dude singing loudly along to whatever parts he knew of that to which he was listening (boo).
