Thursday, June 07, 2007

A Public Service Announcement from FODJ

For all New York commuters taking the A/C line to their destinations in Manhattan and Brooklyn after 11 PM, you know what? Don't bother. Don't fucking bother. It'd be easier for you to build your own train by carving it out of a solid block of marble. Actually, let me know when you're finished with that, because I would gladly take it over the MTA, which I'm convinced is a company whose sole purpose is acting as the most elaborate joke ever played on humankind ever. And the punchline is you don't get anywhere.

Have a problem with the MTA's service? Confused about why it's taking a half hour for a train to arrive? Why not ask one of the countless Cro-Magnons in blue vests who meander thoughtlessly around the platforms looking for people to annoy? You'd get a more enthusiastic and knowledgeable response from Ol' Shakin' Boots at the Gap (see post below).

Sure, there's track work (I'm sorry, "necessary track work," as opposed to the track work where the contractors bang on a rail with a crowbar for no reason). Sure, this track work is causing delays. You'd think when you ask one of the TWENTY contractors waiting on the platform the simple question "What in the fuck is going on?" at least one of them would know. No. No no no. No, they've made a solemn pact never to read the company memo beyond "TO ALL EMPLOYEES." If company memos even EXIST at the MTA. And what are these contractor's contracting? I hope they're contracting fucking trenchfoot because they certainly deserve it, and God knows they stand around idly long enough to let the sick shine in.

Seriously, if you're a company with a virtual monopoly on transportation, I understand the strong urge to fuck with your customers. I mean, what are you going to do? Ride a bike? Not at 11 PM, Lance Armstrong. In fact, let me know how that pans out when you get jumped and viciously beaten with your own handle bars. But come on, there are simple customer relation techniques that even CHILDREN SELLING LEMONADE ON THE ROADSIDE have a better grasp on than the MTA. For instance, when the kid runs out of lemonade, she puts up a sign that reads "NO LEMONADE." We, as customers, appreciate that. It saves time when you're not waiting for a product that's never going to come. So, when the ridiculous "track work" is causing major delays, why not mention that? Why not put up a few signs or say something, ANYTHING? Maybe your customers would like to plan an alternate route, most likely on another train WHICH YOU ALSO HAPPEN TO OWN. Maybe your customers will start a rebellion and throw their own shit at the token booths.

It's funny how certain topics can render one inelegant. But the MTA is a not-to-delicately constructed pack of retards.

(It took two hours for me to get home a couple of nights ago. It takes less than two hours for me to get home to Pennsylvania. I'm sorry for the trite post, but I get upset...)


John said...

To be fair, this past weekend a little girl in Brooklyn asked me if I'd like some lemonade.

I told her I didn't have a quarter, and then she told me I could just stick my head straight up my broke ass for all she cared.

Gabe said...

She will be MTA president

Hackett said...

I feel your pain, brother. These days, when i ride the DC Metro, it slows down between two stops because of "construction". It screeches to a slothenly 30 mph for like 20 seconds. Can you believe it?!? I am an important, fancy man, and my time is precious. I think i might sue.

D.W. said...

You know, it never takes me more than 10 minutes to drive to work. Even in the heaviest traffic. And if I choose to take the bus, It takes 30 minutes door to door. Tops. And no one has ever spit on my shoes or given me one evil stare. Enjoy the "greatest city in the world," suckers.

Matthew said...

Well, this week I got front row seats at the IRT Boxing Federation's Tuesday Morning Fights and Science Fair. Two husky women not only proved to be true several long pondered scientific mysteries: two psychotic commuters can neither occupy the same space at the same time nor can they keep their wigs on their heads and their cannonball-sized beads of sweat off their fellow patrons as one of them inflicts collateral damage on the the a pregnant woman with a foreign object thrown into the ring by a long-missing Iron Mike Sharpe while the other is admonished by celebrity referee Wesley "Subway Superman" Autrey; they also taught all the kids aboard to say FUCK YOU BITCH!