MTA Police Officer Let’s Bum Skip Fare

I saw it with my own eyes.  My jaw dropped to the ground.

I’m sure you’ve seen a homeless person with a stack of used MetroCards standing at a turnstile swiping away in hopes to find a card with a ride still left on it.  I do applaud them for trying to be legal about getting in the subway.  Have to hand it to them there.

However, today I saw an MTA cop just let a guy in because he was tired of seeing the guy swipe (not the guy pictured above). 

It wasn’t even that busy.  The cop said, “You know what, just stop.  Come through.”  

With that, he opened the emergency door and let the guy through.

An act of kindness, perhaps.  However, if anyone else did that, he’d take pleasure in writing them a summons.  

The bottom line was he was just tired of hearing that high pitch ring of the cards being denied.


I Fought with a Bum Today

Sort of.  Also, it turns out you can’t blog about it on your Blackberry while you are in the process of screaming at a scrawny bum.

Anyway, this morning it was raining pretty hard as we all know.  On my train, there was an open window that obviously had water leak down it and formed a puddle in one of the seats.

Unfortunately, I found myself standing directly in front of that seat.  I didn’t want the seat, but saw the open space.  So I spent much of the ride trying to explain to old ladies that they couldn’t sit there because of the puddle, as they pushed me out of the way.

About half way to my stop, a skinny a-hole homeless guy got on the train screaming .  F-this and F-that. Screaming at random people to get the f out of his way.  What are they looking at.  Then telling women he could see down their tops.  A real specimen.

Little eagle-eye spotted the open seat and squirmed his way though the packed train car where I (and others around me) said the seat’s wet.  Note:  I’m standing almost close enough for my shins to touch the front edge of the seat, that’s how packed the train is.  I’m at mid car, near the middle doors.  The wet seat is one spot in from the end of the bench.

So he comes in from my left and reaches down to the seat and brushes the puddle of water off the seat onto the front of my pants!  Like a big, fast wiping action to flick the water off.  He only got about half of the water off the seat when he started to spin around to sit down.

At first I was in shock, but then I said, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

I will leave the rest to your imagination.  I don’t want to go into any details, but he was not on board the train when we left the next station.

I have a fairly high tollerance for these guys because clearly they have mental problems.  However, when you are saying things like he said and splashing water on me, it really gets to the point where action needs to be taken.