Wendy wrote me yesterday, saying she had just found CTA Tattler Thursday. She, like all of us, had many stories to tell of her daily commute. This one, well, this one took a lot of courage. Here's to you, Wendy:
Yesterday on the Brown Line, I kicked three drunk men off the train. I had worked late, was tired, just wanted to get home in peace. At about the Chicago stop, some drunkards got on and started getting rowdy and yelling at each other and threatening to take people's money and were swearing up a huge storm, being really crude, etc., etc. Stop after stop it got worse and worse and louder and louder. I got madder and madder.
Nobody was doing anything. Finally, after one man started pounding on the wall and acting really menacing, I got to feeling that my personal safety was being threatened. Or at the very least, they were going to start a fight with each other, they'd have to stop the train, call the police, etc., etc.. and then I'd never get home.
I sort of of snapped. I got up, marched over to their end of the train, and unloaded on them with all the righteous fury and sense of justice I had. I yelled, pointing at them right in their faces, "You, You and YOU are getting OFF this train at the next stop! It doesn't matter where you wanted to get off, you WILL be getting off the next time these doors open! If you don't get off, I'll be pressing the button and telling them to call the police!
"This is ENOUGH! ALL OF YOU ARE LEAVING THIS TRAIN!" They all stopped in their tracks and looked at me all slackjawed. One man apologized and mumbled sorry or whatever, and I just blared, "We do NOT need this type of behavior on our way home from work!" I was not interested in apologies. I stood there yelling at them until the doors opened, and then pointed at the door and shooed them out yelling, "GET OUT! GET OUT!" They all herded out and just kind of stood there on the platform, not knowing quite what to do. (It was Southport)
The doors closed, and we were off. I heard a few "thank you's" from the other passengers on the train. I then parked myself back in a seat and rode in peace the rest of the way home. After my husband stopped laughing when I told him about it, he wondered why I didn't just get out of the car, or catch another train.
That would have been the sensible thing to do I suppose. I've done it before, no big deal. But for this one time, I figured why should I have to move, or inconvenience myself in any way for those ignorant drunks.
If they had been maybe a tougher sort of crowd, I'd probably not have done anything. Or maybe I would have. I dunno. I'm sick of idiots making life miserable for the rest of us regular folks. All we want is to just get to where we're going without any trouble.
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