Riding The NJ Transit Gravy Train

Carmine,

Whatever action was being taken to address my last complaint apparently did not stick. This morning on the NEC 8:17, I rode from Jersey Avenue all the way past Newark Penn Station before tickets were collected. I actually stopped a conductor when we got off the train to ask him why no one looked at my ticket until after Newark. He didn't know. Of course, he didn't know. And he didn't want to talk about it either.

So NOW what are you going to do?

How can you allow train after train to ferry people for free on such a regular basis? Why in the world do you not have a strategy in place to collect fares from each and every passenger AS THEY BOARD?

It's really just too easy for you to reach into my pocket. I don't like it and I really don't think that you are even really trying.

So, how do you like that? On the very day NJ Transit voted to increase fares, another trainload of rush hour commuters rode from Jersey Avenue past Newark Penn Station for free, free, free.

When we arrived at New York Penn - late, by the way - I confronted a conductor to ask which car the card game is in so I can join him tomorrow morning. He got that deer in the headlights look and I watched the cogs come to life and begin to turn the wheels in his head while he figured out this was heading nowhere good, and that he should am-scray before I got wise and checked his breast pocket where his name is embroidered. (Embroidered!) Needless to say, I was so transfixed by watching him figuring out how to deal with me, I actually did forget to grab his name. (He was one of those people who process with their whole being; his physical bearing changed as he took hold of himself. I was really fascinated by that and it did pull me off my game just a little.) Not that it matters. I wouldn't really want to single out one guy when he's not the only one futzing around.

Being a train conductor is not a job I would want necessarily, but you have to agree it's a pretty decent gig. You have a union behind you that negotiates your way out of doing unpleasant things like - say - wresting puking Ranger fans from their seats, or mopping up the hotdog-popcorn-Budweiser-Jägermeister vomit that winds and sloshes on the floor under the seats to where my tan suede loafer-clad feet happened to be planted unsuspectingly. Collecting fares and sticking to a schedule also seem to be tasks the union smartly assigned to the "Optional" category.

Well, I'm pretty well resigned to the fact that my commute will be jacked to $400+ a month and I will be the beneficiary of even fewer amenities and pleasantries on NJ Transit. So with that said, I better get back to work because I am going to need this job to pay for the privilege of getting here late and irritated five days a week.

Double Frick!

The BlackBerry is out until Thursday and that is going to fudge up my attempts to post on my fledgling blog. Armenian Bettie Page at work insists that the new BlackBerry has to be ordered online and synced in-house and that takes days; the much more reasonable alternative of just walking down the street to the T-Mobile store and waiving my warranty to get a new BB (from its stock of nearly 1,000 BlackBerries just like mine) apparently constitutes either surrender of power on her part, or an assumption of power she chooses not to exercise. Either way, going to T-Mobile and simply asking them to replace my defective BB is not an option that will be available to me. Sigh.

Not that there was anything particularly interesting about the commute today. I was late, the train was late (you owe me a cocktail, Annemarie) and the doors were all fouled up on the 5:54 home-- blah, blah, blah. Oh - the ticket man said good morning and made eye contact this morning as he collected which is incredibly pleasant, particularly as I near the end of my Transit Check stash. Those tickets become increasingly dear to me as my supply dwindles and I am looking for any reason not to give them up. It makes me feel better to give it to someone who can put a little effort into his gig.

Expecting delicious tales of anxious people and overcrowded trains tomorrow.