CTA Tattler

I am furious today! This one really takes the cake. Was waiting at Fullerton for a Red Line going north. A purple pulled into the station and an announcement was made that this train would turn into a red line at Belmont, making all local stops to Howard, at which point it would turn purple again. So I got on, intending to get off at Berwyn. I sat back and got involved in the newspaper when I hear someone yell, "Hey! Stop the train! We're supposed to stop at Sheridan!" I look up and sure enough we've blown through 2 stops. The train stops just past Sheridan for a long while and we're thinking it's going to back up into the station. Then we start up again and make NO stops until Howard. People got on the intercom and asked the driver what was going on. There was no answer. I called the CTA. They called the driver and then we got an announcement (once we got to Howard), saying only that he apologized for the fact that "this happened." No reason given. The CTA rep said sometimes this happens, that trains need to run express. Huh. So the driver just changed his mind, immediately after making the announcement? Okay, fine. But you make at least one stop to let people off so they don't have to ride to the end of the line! What the hell?! SO pissed. If you couldn't tell.

Heard on the Orange Line this morning: Man says, " I made reservations at CAFE IBERICO". Woman responds "CATFISH BARREL, where is that?". The End.

SB #11 Saturday afternoon. A small boy kept asking his mom why the lady in the seat across the aisle from them was talking to her Diet Coke. "She's on the phone, you need to be quiet," says the mom. "I don't see a phone," says the boy. "She must have it on the other side of her head, where you can't see it," says the mom, "So we need to be quiet, so she can talk on her phone."

I was sitting behind the woman, she was talking to her Diet Coke.

This is a gross story, so sensitve tummy's beware!!

Here I am trying to make it home to drink with my roomie who was just fired from her job. Minding my own business on the crowded after-work redline heading north I throw in my earbuds and jam to Prince. Suddenly I feel something warm on my leg...like water...only to look down and see this heifer puking on me and the guy next to me. Not just a bit o' puke, but chunks of "happy hour" nachos and cosmo's puke. Disgusted, I jump up to confront the brown haired, "I work in corporate America" and shop at Trader Joe's ho as the train pulls into the North/Clybourn station. The heifer jumps off as soon as the doors opens without a "sorry", "here's my card for dry cleaning", or "my bad fools". I'm stuck riding the train for another 15 minutes with puke sliding down my leg.

But I think the worse part was not the puke, not the smell, but the fact that not one pretenious Northsider offered me a napkin, a bottle of water, or a smpathetic look. Finally after crying for a tissue some sweet little foreign dude said in broken English, "Ma'am I have a napkin".

So...if you were the heifer that puked on me, I would appreciate an apology AND $30 to cover my dry cleaning bill.

Word.