The F Train Follies: Blech!

There was a highly disturbing story in the Brooklyn section of the Daily News today brought to my attention by the good folks at Gothamist. Yesterday afternoon a man and his very preggers wife boarded a Manhattan bound F train enroute to Bellevue Hospital.

By the time the train was under the East River, it was obvious the couple weren't going to make the full commute. As soon as the train entered the East Broadway stop, the man escorted his wife off the train and onto the platform where her water immediately broke...

You guessed it. She had the baby right there on the platform as four additional trains came and went.

BLECH! I need to bleach my brain to sterilize it from the imagery of the incident.

You can read all about it by clicking here.

The F Train Follies - Puking Edition

To borrow the opening line from one of my favorite books, tonight was the best of times, it was the worst of times.

I had a work function at Cipriani on 42nd Street. One of my brands was a sponsor of an annual modeling event. As my management and I chatted up a few of our favorite clients, an invitation was extended to be their guest at the annual 'to-do' in Switzerland in early April. I was in shock when they insisted I come as their guest as this is an invitation I'd been coveting for a couple of years now.

Giddy with excitement and pondering where I'd go shopping for a suitable cocktail dress for the high-end dinner that would be awaiting me in Geneva, I opted to take the subway home (and save a few precious pennies for said cocktail dress). Herewith ends the Best Of Times scenario, as most blog posts featuring the NYC Subway system do.

This time, though, I cannot entirely blame the MTA. True, something was a rye on the F line as I had to wait a half hour for a packed train to arrive at Broadway/Lafayette. No, our misery begins with the packed car stopping at Second Avenue upon which the masses squeezed thier way on. I was crammed near the left-hand mid-car door when a 20something girl in a fuchsia parka slithered her way to my immediate left.

By the time we crawled one stop closer to Brooklyn at Delancy Street, I noticed girlfriend wasn't at the top of her game. Out of the corner of my eye I could see her beginning to slouch, rest her head on her extended left arm. Yet, it was the sighs that really tipped me off.

As we approached East Broadway, only one thought crossed my mind: What would I do if this girl suddenly began to puke. And just then....she did.

All over me, the girl next to me, the girl sitting down in the seat we were pressed up against and on the girl to her immediate right. It was like one of those dancing fountains outside the Bellagio in Vegas. Unfortunately for her, the girl to my immediate right got the brunt of it. As she "Oyed!", I turned to the cause of our shock. Fuchsia Coat hadn't said a word. Her eyes were half closed. She just stood there. So I asked her, "Are you OK?" at which she did a little half turn and exited the car just as the doors closed at East Broadway.

A good Samaritan gave us all some Kleenex to dab away the damage. I pointed out to my fellow victims that it could have been a helluva lot worse - the evidence proved Fuchsia Coat didn't have much of a dinner. We all handled it as well as we could and bid each other good luck with our coats at Jay Street where a hoard of unsuspecting passengers separated us and the space we were quick to vanquish.

So, to Fuchsia Coat, I sincerely hope you made it home ok. And to my fellow victims, I hope you, too, have a great dry cleaner.

The F Train Follies: Say Wha?

Sadly, this may be the best option for F train riders once the elevated Culver Viaduct at Smith/9th is closed for the better part of 2010...

Thx NYMag!

The F Train Follies

The day I've been waiting for finally arrived.

MTA workers greeted commuters this morning at the Carroll Street turnstiles by handing out rider report cards for the F line. Since moving to the hood in 1999 I've often vented my frustration at the lack of service upgrades the MTA has offered residents of Carroll Gardens and the surrounding neighborhoods' booming population growth in emails to the MTA, petitioning my local politicians and bitching with fellow passengers. (OK that last one's not exactly being proactive) Finally, there's to be an official tally of public opinion.

Hopefully recent reports of bringing back the F Express being impossible until 2012 (at the very earliest) will be sped up via public outcry like the lucky L and 7 riders will soon enjoy.

Just a few more trains during rush hours, please! Or extend the V out to Church Ave or Kings Highway. Something. Anything.

Fellow F riders, click here and make your voice heard.

Happy riding,
Z.

F Train Follies: Subway Enthusiasts Take Notice

Yes, this is totally dorky of me, but as much as I bitch about the MTA, I'm a little obsessed with the subway system. Someone more obsessed than me created an animated map showing the history of how the whole thing came to be what it is today.

Watch it for a bit and it just might put you into a trance.

Click Here to see the map in action.

Happy Hump Day

Considering the MTA, Metro North, LIRR and NJ Transit were fucked from the storm this morning, here's hoping you called in 'sick' (or were lucky enough to have had your Manfriend sleep over last night and sweetly give you a ride to work).

UPDATE: To be fair, Brooklyn did have a TORNADO. An F2 to be exact. Bugger landed in Bay Ridge and swung northeast to the base of Prospect Park. Check it out:

The F Train Follies: Sometimes I Just Hate People...

...especially twats so into their newspapers that they don't pay attention or hold on to the subway cars' bars. So to the broad on the uptown bound C train at 9am this morning, I gotta know: what were you reading in the Daily News that was so compelling and profound as to engross you into forgetting you were on an older car that rides a bit rough? Did you not notice that everyone was being jostled around and hanging on to their respective walls/bars/doorways for dear life?

Apparently not as just before the WTC stop you went flying, elbowing the guy next to me and knocking me squarely into the path of the side of a seat. To be more specific, grinding my knee into the 90 degree metal corner of the seat, causing an explosion of pain, blood and immediate bruising.

True, you gave me a half-hearted "are you ok" before scurrying to the nearest pole to continue your article with your back to me, but I'm still hating on you. And your Daily News.

The F Train Follies - 5 O'clock Shadow Edition

Yesterday I had plans to meet up with a girlfriend for some much needed catching up over a few Rosés post work. While riding uptown on the 1 train, between Christopher and 14th Street, I heard a loud buzz permeate through Amy Winehouse's new track blasting through my ipod headphones. Glancing around, I quickly spotted the source: a pudgy 30ish guy in a cheap suit shaving with an electronic shaver. This guy was really going to town on his face while never taking his eyes off the book he was reading. I have seen my share of grooming on the subway, but I admit, I gawked at the guy all the way to 23rd where he snapped the thing to OFF, slipped it and his book into his bag and exited the train.

As he wasn't overly hairy, seriously, was this necessary at 6pm?

Here's hoping he scored on a hot date...