During my morning commute the other day I experienced what I like to refer to as an “Office Space Moment.” You know the part in the movie “Office Space,” where Peter is stuck in traffic, and every time he switches lanes, the lane he was just in moves ahead while he gets stuck? Well that same thing can happen while riding the T.
The Green Line has four separate routes you can take out of Boston (B, C, D and E). All of these routes go to Arlington Street (my stop), so I have the luxury of jumping on whatever line arrives first. The other morning, upon climbing the stairs to the Green Line platform, I saw a B line waiting with its doors open. I ran to catch it, thinking how lucky I was that I did not have to wait for a train. A few seconds later the feeling of dread spread over me when I realized that the train I ran to catch was not in fact leaving, but standing by. At that very moment and to my delight, a C line train was approaching. It was like Christmas! I eagerly jumped off the stalled B line and ran to the C line (for some reason the C line is my favorite…I swear the cars are cleaner!). The very moment I boarded the pristine C line, I saw the B line, from where I just came, take off. Disappointed, but not defeated, I braced myself for the familiar pull of the T rolling away from the platform. A few seconds later, still bracing, I heard the words that were becoming all too familiar to me that morning: “we are standing by.” This is the point where I started to get really annoyed. Just then, an E line train appeared across the platform. My immediate reaction was to get off the C line and try my luck with the E—but my past experiences that morning taught me better. Do I evacuate the train I am on and board the new one in hopes that the new train will leave the station first? It was a gamble, but I decided to take it. Hesitantly, I abandoned the C line, and to my utter dismay, I heard the creak of the doors close behind me. The C line left the station. With a head hung low, I moved toward the E line praying that this nightmare would end. I boarded the train and a few seconds later, the doors closed and we took off. And that is what I like to call an “Office Space Moment.”
Completely unrelated to that incident—I would like to give my good friend Adam Freedman a shout out for successfully climbing the 176 steps at the Porter Square T station yesterday. Having used that T station for a year, I know that this is not an easy task.
Happy Riding!
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
10 comments:
The D line is the best, for the record.
I think the reason I am now addicted to this...it that we take the same path from Davis to Arlington. To top it all off....I had my own Office Space moment just hours ago!!!
Thank You for giving me something to make my trip more enjoyable!
Is that because it goes to Newton?
The D line is a close second for me.
Not just Newton, right to my house. Which you would know if you didn't blow off all our parties!
Has your generation ever heard the song, "The Man Who Never Returns"? The refrain is..."He may ride forever, 'neath the streets of Boston, he's the man who never returns."
Has your generation ever heard the song, "The Man Who Never Returns"? The refrain is, "he will ride forever, 'neath the streets of Boston, he's the man who never returns."
Anonymous references the song that our beloved Charlie Passes are named after! Charlie on the MBTA!
P.S. Frey, I just want you to know, after reading this entry, I'm never letting you decide which train we take to kickball again! :P
Colin, what crack are you smoking? First of all, when it comes to the green line, there is no "best" -- just a "least worst."
Secondly, Angela is right -- the C line is the least worst. It comes frequently* and is relatively clean. The D line used to be least worst in that it had the best seat configurations, but they're phasing those cars out.
And Angela, your impatience is justly rewarded! Those standbys are almost never more than a minute or two. If a train is going to stand by for any significant length of time, they make sure not to announce it.
* That's what she said.
There was nothing wrong with my name, until I was about 12 years old and that no-talent ass clown became famous and started winning Grammys.
Post a Comment