I knew that as soon as I comitted to starting a blog about the strange stuff one sees on public transportation, said strange stuff would clear up. Well, that has come to pass, and the last few days on the DART rail have been totally without incident. I did see a lady with a goatee, but I couldn't get a clear picture of it because it was like the goatee of a 13 year old boy. Plus, I think that if she had caught me, her extra testosterone might have given her an edge over me in a fight.
Since the train has been fairly uneventful, I thought I would take a minute and talk to you about the way people treat public places. The train station at Citiplace is a modern wonder, in that there are trash cans all over the place - in fact, I would venture a guess that unless you are on the escalator, you are probably no farther than 10 feet from a trash can at any given moment. Some people, however, can't even wait that long to dispose of their trash.
These two cups sit between a set of trash cans. One sip earlier, or one step later, both of these could have been thrown away in the proper receptacle. I wish I had come upon the crime in progress, as I am notorious for picking up trash and handing it to people that drop it - I do it in my neighborhood all of the time, and have more than once shamed someone at the park into picking up the trash they have casually tossed on the ground. I have a voice that carries, and I make sure that everyone around can hear exactly what I think of people that have so casual disregard for the world around them.
There are two elevators in Citiplace station, and both are fairly slow, as elevators go. They don't have far to travel, but seem to take an inordinate amount of time to do so. I usually ride the escalators, because the stairs are very long, and I am as lazy as they are steep. I never ride the elevators except under great duress; not because they are slow, as stated before, but because they are slow and they smell of urine. The photo above might show the spot where someone (or several someones) take advantage of the slowness of the elevators and relieve themselves. I have ridden the elevators when the escalators are broken, but for me it is a convenience. I am healthy in limb and lung, and can just as easily carry my bike up the stairs instead of riding. The escalators were down the other day and I rode up with a wheelchair bound man, and I don't think I have ever felt so bad for someone. He has no choice - the horrible urine elevators are the only way out of the station for him. I did notice a Citiplace security badge clipped to his shirt pocket, so this is a ride that he takes every day. I'm no stranger to peeing in public places, but I'd like to talk to the person (or persons) that are fouling the elevators. Here is a photograph of another spot on the walls that I assume is stained by urine.
What is wrong with people? Is this really what we are devolving to? Elevator fouling litter machines that think "someone else will clean it up"? I certainly hope that my readers will follow my lead and call attention to people who treat the world as a giant garbage can.
I saw this guy the other day, and happened to have a package of ranch dressing and a plastic bowl in my bag. I couldn't help but get them out and ask him if he would bum me some of his lettuce. After all, he had twenty or thirty pounds worth.
He said no, but I certainly hope he is blogging about me on his lettuce blog today.