MTA Mayhem/Letter to the Editor 8/6/08

On 8/5/08, I had one errand to run. I had to pick up my sunglasses from Greetings and Readings at Hunt Valley Mall. I'd like to share with you what a day with the MTA is like. After waiting about 30 minutes I boarded a #8 bus travelling North at about 1:30 p.m. The driver was driving at about 50-60 miles an hour and slamming on the brakes each time someone needed to get off. I was terrified. He was honking and raging at the drivers and was furious. In full body language he turned around to the passengers acting out how badly he feels everyone drives. The passengers mostly all laughed but me. I sarcastically said to the man next to me "I'm glad you think it's so funny" The man saw me marking down the bus # and said: "You're wasting your time reporting this incident. The way he's driving , he's going to flip this bus over!" I was so terrified I grabbed onto both silver bars for dear life. Instead of going to the bus stop and waiting for the #9, I stopped off at Borders for a pay phone where I unsuccessfully tried to contact the head of customer complaints at the MTA. I then proceeded to the bus stop, where all benches have been pulled out by the MTA. Despite a police substation being located there, I don't feel safe. An addict with headphones is dancing and fighting the air, and rapping and howling. All other passengers try to ignore him. I'm afraid to look at him lest he lash out at me. I have to sit on the ground to wait for the bus. After about 30 minutes of this addict's scary behavior, the #9 arrives. He keeps saying "after you, after you, after you" but I don't want him behind me so I refuse to let him go behind me. The driver yells for him to board already. After he gets on, he hovers over the driver asking questions. "Look, I been up since 4 o'clock this morning and I don't have the time or energy to babysit you, so sit down!"
The addict runs to the back of the bus and back to the front again, still howling and rapping. The #9 takes about 50 minutes to get to H.V. mall. I ask the driver: "Is this the best place for me to get off for Wegman's?" "I've never heard of Wegman's, plus we dont go to H.V. mall anymore." I look to my right and see Wegmans and the H.Valley mall. I show it to the driver but he ignores me. At 6 p.m. I decide that I can't handle the #9 again, and I am scared to stand at light rail alone, but feel I have no choice. There are a couple of young girls next to me speaking in a foreign language. There is a train labelled: "BWI" and I think, well, I'm not going there. I sit and wait for some train to seem like the right train. I see 3 more people and ask them where should I wait and which train goes to the city. All 3 say they have no idea. At 6:30 I decide to board a train labelled "Cromwell." When I get on the car, a custodian immediately enters and comes within an inch of accidentally poking out my eye with his poker used to pick up cigarettes, etc. This happens twice. I sit on the car alone, seeing no driver, and feeling worried. By about 7, it takes off. I can't hear the stops being called out, so I count: hmmm, 7 stops to Lutherville. I press the yellow tape, so the train will let me off. The yellow tape doesn't work, I try it in 3 more places. Still doesn't work. I get off at Lutherville, but can't find the exit to the bus. There is a homeless man, and another man and both point me in a different direction to deboard the ramp to the bus. When I approach the bus stop, that same scary addict from before is sleeping in the #9 shelter. There are no passengers to be found. Thank goodness the #8 was already there. I swiped my day pass. "This is no good" the driver alerted me. I wondered how that could be the case, as I just bought it at light rail. "I must have pressed the wrong button" Apparently, I wasn't supposed to purchase a round trip ticket, I was supposed to purchase a day pass. He went on and on and on how not to make the same mistake the next time. This driver was friendly, but I really didn't need a lesson, I simply had pressed the wrong button. A woman with a cane over her arm, gets on and absentmindedly swings it into my shin. Thank goodness, I had extra change or I would have had to walk the 6 miles back home to Drumcastle. I arrive home at 7:40 p.m. At least half of my MTA experiences, I would describe as traumatic. You should think twice before you complain about gas prices if you are lucky enough to own a car. And by the way, you should probably stay there.