Raging Against the MBTA

Alternate titles for this post:
1. Fuck you motherfucker
2. Why I can't shop at the Shaws in Porter Square anymore
3. Need more pills
4. Pyschotic Episode: the 95-degree Red Line addition

As I mentioned last night, the Red Line has been sucking of late. Always slow, always hot, always annoying. But I hate driving in the city and I'm trying to be greener and I am a big believer in public transporation, so I take the T.

I had an appointment in Boston at 6 p.m. tonight. I left our house around 5, took the stroll down to Davis and gave myself a mental high five when I realized that the train was sitting in the station waiting for me. I found myself a seat, whipped out my copy of Sisterhood Interrupted like the wannabe college student I am (see: feminist literature, glasses, oh-so-cynical disposition) and settled in.

5:20: Train is still not moving, and getting rather crowded. People are getting antsy. A woman that was born around the same time as John the Baptist is getting extremely vocal about the hold up. "Young man, young man. Go ask what the delay is." A young dude obliges. "Traffic" is the answer we get back.

5:22: Still sitting in the station. No AC. More people crowding on and much more bitching. John the Baptist Lady still annoyed. She has an appointment she needs to get to. The rest of us are apparently just hanging out.

5:25: Doors close and we finally start moving, if you can call it that. The train lurches pitifully out of the station and we start inching toward Porter. I relearn Valerie Solanas.

5:30: We arrive at Porter Square. Doors open and stay open. Again, no AC. I should mention here that it is about 95 degrees out and humid. People are now visibly and vocally agitated.

5:32: John the Baptist's sister gets off the train and starts yelling at the conductor the way only an old lady can. "You are a very stupid driver. You are a very stupid driver of this train, young lady."

5:33: More grumbling. It starts to smell like B.O. Probably mine.

5:34: We're still at the station. I put the book away and ask the conductor if we're going to have delays at every station. She says yes, so I decide to cut my losses.

5:35: I head over to the Porter Square plaza because there are always cabs picking and dropping off at Shaw's and I figure I can grab one. I call my appointment and confirm that I can come in late -- that 6:30 is okay.

5:40: No cabs at Porter. I start a line and am immediately joined by a few others who left the subway. It is beyond hellish hot.

5:45: Give up and call a cab. They tell me 20 minutes and I say I can't wait that long. I call another cab company. They tell me someone is coming right away. Wussy looking guy next to me does the same.

5:50: No cab.

5:55: Still no cab. Call YG and vent, giving him reaon to remember that the crazy is always lurking somewhere within me.

5:56: Wussy guy and I chat about how much this very much fucking blows.

5:57: My cab is still not here, but a Green Cab pulls up. Because I am first in line, I open the door and hop in. The driver tells me that I cannot have this cab because it is not MY cab. I ask if he is there for a pick up specifically and he says no. So I tell him that I need him to take me to Boston. He again says he's not picking up, that I need to take the cab that's coming for me. I tell him that I'm tired of waiting, can he take me? He orders me out of the cab and tells me that I need to wait. All of this is done with an accent I can't really understand so there's a lot of "huh? what? I don't understand" too.

5:58: As I'm getting out of the cab, sweaty and angry, I shout, "Are you fucking kidding me with this shit?" The driver starts swearing back, and as we're arguing, Wussy Guy gets in the backseat and tells the guy he wants to go to South Station. I shout, "Wait a minute! He's waiting for another cab too. HE NEEDS TO WAIT TOO!" and start grabbing at the door handle. The driver starts to pull away with a final "Bitch, you crazy."

5:59: I do not take the high road. I take the very low road. I start pounding on the window, screaming, "Fuck you, motherfucker" and to the Wussy Guy that stole the cab, "I hope I don't find you, Fuckface, because I'll fucking stab you, fucker."
The two of them actually LAUGH.

6:00: I stomp back to the sidewalk, kick some bottles that are lying around and SHAKE. I am too in my fit of rage to be fucking mortified, but there are people watching me. People shopping, people trying to enjoy their coffees outside the bookstore...people.

6:03: My cab finally shows up. The driver must sense that I am a mess because he asks me to "tell me everything." I give him the whole story, tell him that I need to get to Boston by 6:30. He tells me not to worry, that he'll get me there. He also has AC so I am in love with him.

6:04: We hit Somerville Ave and it's a traffic nightmare. He asks me to trust him and not to judge his route. I tell him I won't.

6:24: We pull up at my appointment. I tip big and tell the driver that he is awesome.

6:25: Appointment. Re-tell story. Receptionist calls a bunch of friends who are also bitching about the suckage of the Red Line. I decide that I'm going to pollute the environment AND waste money and cab it back.

7:00: Hail another cab. This time the driver is a really friendly singer who sings the whole way back to Cambridge and tells me that I look like a professor. He adds, "a smart professor."

7:25: Back at Davis. Buy burrito.

7:35: Home. Eat burrito, drink champagne. Chase with fro yo.

Now: Totally in my head, reliving the crazy. WTF? I am not a rager, but I sometimes end up in these situations where I totally and completely enter a fit of rage and go off the deep end. Where the crazy is way beyond the suckage of the situation. I told some guy I was going to STAB him. I am beyond mortified. And I'm so afraid that there's going to be "Wanted" pictures of me in the Porter Square parking lot.
My God.

And, oh, the appointment? Was a wax appointment. Apparently, a neatly-groomed vagina and smooth legs are important enough to me that I'm willing to risk possibly landing in jail to get them.

:-(