Saturday, July 26, 2003
THE THIRD BIKE (AND OTHER COMPLETELY RANDOM STORIES)
I haven't been completely out of the loop, but I have been hanging out with the Brazilians lately, several of them were making out in the back of the van on the way home from Magic Mountain. Later, they convinced me to stop at McDonald's. I didn't want to, I had a 10:00 bus to catch later, but how can you say no to these people? Yet, by so doing, and I tried to argue my way out of it for quite some time, I would have completed a somewhat dubious triumvirate of fast food bork by eating at Jack in the Box, In N Out and McDonald's all in one day. No I'm not a fast food junkie. I drove 350 miles that day, which included a trip to Oxnard and a long stop at the Camarillo Outlet Mall, where I interceded between some kids selling speakers out of the back of their car and another Brazilian named Enrique, who was smoking a cigarette when these two bozos pulled up and caught his ear. I didn't know what was going on until I heard someone say,
"Yeah, we got em for free!"
And I turned around and it's a van with a big old speaker box in the back, and I had just seen the Fox News expose on this scam, with hidden cameras and all that, this crap they're peddling, and I didn't even know if Enrique was buying it but I had been waiting an hour and a half (although I did splurge for a $2 pair of flip-flops at the Gap) and I wanted to get the hell out of there, and who knows how long this could drag out, so I ran over and told Enrique very explicitly,
"It's bullshit! Don't listen to them!"
And, honestly, everybody involved was stunned - the kids, the Brazilians, me. Nobody really knew what to say at first and then I think Enrique said, "Really?" and then the kid that was doing all the talking started getting a little rowdy and I would have none of it and, besides, the sale was completely blown, so they had no choice but to drive away. The kid did say,
"Nice hat,"
and he followed it up with "Thanks alot for blowing it," or something and I waved my hand at them and replied,
"Go screw somebody else,"
and the one kid said "What?" and looked like he wanted to come after me but the driver smartly kept driving. I mean, sure, he coulda pulled out a gun or something, you know, but otherwise what's he gonna do, call the cops? Fox News?
And afterward Enrique wouldn't quit saying, "I can't believe how brave you are!" and it was like, I don't think so. But I did save, if at least 20 minutes of wasted time, but possibly several $$$ of his money, if he got rooked into buying it. Apparently, Enrique trusted them completely, so who knows?
Well, that was worth a #2 at In N Out.
Had I known that I wouldn't have had a breakfast special at Jack in the Box, earlier in the day when I had no clue how the rest of the day would play out. And later, facing another fat, greasy, bound-to-make-me-have-the-shits burger combo, and hedging, I realized I could save face with a McDonalds salad (I also considered the McVeggie burger), and everyone got what they wanted, the Brazilian kids got their food (despite the somewhat obnoxious, agressive but satisfactorily good-natured behavior by the kids, it was a gas to see the hapless McDonalds workers dealing with the Brazilian culture, five of them in total, against only one "associate" manning the register, all with varying levels of English comphrehension levels, all of them ordering differently, and with different expectations - the obligatory McHopelessly obese shift manager was not amused, not hardly) and, more importantly, they bought me food, to show that they are good people, which they are.
What they don't realize, or care about, is the fact that it's not proper here for a 20-something horndog to be macking out on a teenage schoolgirl, even if the girl looks like she's 22. Well, it's their vacation. I should mention that there was also two other teenagers making out too.
And don't think for a minute that I'm some kind of moral police either, although I'll have to admit to getting a little Travis Bickle rush there for awhile.
Not that the feeling lasted very long. Once I got rid of them all I had to haul ass to the bus stop. I barely made it, had to cross against a red light (Mr. P, you sanctimonious hypocrite and scofflaw!) and considered myself very lucky indeed as a classic "Third Bike" scenario was developing on the bus, in fact one of the most elaborate ever, the most expansive I've ever seen.
First I should explain:
Anyone who rides the bus knows this, and you've likely seen it if you were looking closely enough, but most public transit buses have room for two bikes to be carried in the front, outside mind you, all strapped in. It's very convenient for the bike riders, especially since it's a relatively new convenience offered by at least MTA and Foothill Transit, just in the last ten years or so, because let's face it, if you're on the bus in SoCal, that means you're walkin' a hell of alot, and maybe you might be better served making part of the trip on something less demanding and quicker - like a bicycle. Okay, that makes sense. And I did this myself for quite some time until I just couldn't take it anymore, I could no longer bring myself to do it. Why?
Well, it's all about being the Third Bike.
Let's say you're hanging at the bus stop and you've got your bike and you're all ready to go, and you've been waiting for awhile because the buses only run once every half hour at best and lots of times once every hour, so you're eager to get on, to get where you're going, to be there, finally, the hell with this bus shit and all that, and here the bus comes and gosh darn it, well, there seems to be two bikes already strapped in and you realize to your dismay that there's no room for you and that, in harsh bus terms, YOU'RE SHIT OUT OF LUCK.
Sorry, that's all there is to it. If you're that Third Bike, forget it, you have two options, you can either
A) Leave your bike behind, chain it to the sign pole or something, or
2) Wait for the next bus
Sometimes, and I've seen this, it's the last bus of the night. Imagine that. The last bus of the night, and you're the third bike. (Sounds like a song, doesn't it?) And, yes, it happened to me more than once. Really, I think it took about the third time I got stuck way the fuck far away from my apartment and I'm standing there thinking, "What the hell is so convenient about this? If I'm walking, I'm on that damn bus, simple as that!"
So it's a bit of a live and learn thing, and on this night, even after the Brazilians, I got to watch several have to deal with being the Third Bike. There was two on the bus when I got on, and one woman who was stuck being the Third Bike. Making it worse for her, she was with someone not on a bike, and he got to get on the bus while she quite forlornly had to pedal it away. I was keeping tabs of this guy on the bus. He had a really guilty look on his face. However, he got off after about a mile and a half, so if they were going to the same place, she was only slightly screwed.
Later, we pull up to a stop and there are two kids waiting with bikes, punk rock kids, I've seen them before I think, sometimes they're on skateboards. Anyhow, the bus saw them and wasn't even going to stop until they screamed out. Maybe they thought they could negotiate their way on, I don't know, it didn't work, the driver was denying them, big time. However, that didn't deter the spiky blond-haired one with the Ataris T-shirt, he just threw it in the bushes, abandoned it, and hopped on board. This was a weird enough bus as it was because the driver had groupies, or whatever, a couple of nut jobs that were up in front talking with him and making an occasionally bizarre remark. They were rendered speechless by this move, it was such a brazen act of abandonment, such a, well, a punk rock move - if it's impeding your progress, get rid of it, fuck it! I was pretty damn impressed too, although, I think it all boiled down to the less ballsy but no less impressive move of screwing his other friend, who opted not to abandon his bike and, as we pulled away, seemed to be stuck with both of them, waiting another half hour for the next bus, no doubt wondering how he would get screwed on that one.
Then later, still another guy tried to get on with a bike. He got lucky. One of the bike riders was getting off at the next stop and so the bus driver allowed him enough time to get over there so he wouldn't get shut out. It would have made at least four on one ride, and that's way more than I've ever seen.
I haven't been completely out of the loop, but I have been hanging out with the Brazilians lately, several of them were making out in the back of the van on the way home from Magic Mountain. Later, they convinced me to stop at McDonald's. I didn't want to, I had a 10:00 bus to catch later, but how can you say no to these people? Yet, by so doing, and I tried to argue my way out of it for quite some time, I would have completed a somewhat dubious triumvirate of fast food bork by eating at Jack in the Box, In N Out and McDonald's all in one day. No I'm not a fast food junkie. I drove 350 miles that day, which included a trip to Oxnard and a long stop at the Camarillo Outlet Mall, where I interceded between some kids selling speakers out of the back of their car and another Brazilian named Enrique, who was smoking a cigarette when these two bozos pulled up and caught his ear. I didn't know what was going on until I heard someone say,
"Yeah, we got em for free!"
And I turned around and it's a van with a big old speaker box in the back, and I had just seen the Fox News expose on this scam, with hidden cameras and all that, this crap they're peddling, and I didn't even know if Enrique was buying it but I had been waiting an hour and a half (although I did splurge for a $2 pair of flip-flops at the Gap) and I wanted to get the hell out of there, and who knows how long this could drag out, so I ran over and told Enrique very explicitly,
"It's bullshit! Don't listen to them!"
And, honestly, everybody involved was stunned - the kids, the Brazilians, me. Nobody really knew what to say at first and then I think Enrique said, "Really?" and then the kid that was doing all the talking started getting a little rowdy and I would have none of it and, besides, the sale was completely blown, so they had no choice but to drive away. The kid did say,
"Nice hat,"
and he followed it up with "Thanks alot for blowing it," or something and I waved my hand at them and replied,
"Go screw somebody else,"
and the one kid said "What?" and looked like he wanted to come after me but the driver smartly kept driving. I mean, sure, he coulda pulled out a gun or something, you know, but otherwise what's he gonna do, call the cops? Fox News?
And afterward Enrique wouldn't quit saying, "I can't believe how brave you are!" and it was like, I don't think so. But I did save, if at least 20 minutes of wasted time, but possibly several $$$ of his money, if he got rooked into buying it. Apparently, Enrique trusted them completely, so who knows?
Well, that was worth a #2 at In N Out.
Had I known that I wouldn't have had a breakfast special at Jack in the Box, earlier in the day when I had no clue how the rest of the day would play out. And later, facing another fat, greasy, bound-to-make-me-have-the-shits burger combo, and hedging, I realized I could save face with a McDonalds salad (I also considered the McVeggie burger), and everyone got what they wanted, the Brazilian kids got their food (despite the somewhat obnoxious, agressive but satisfactorily good-natured behavior by the kids, it was a gas to see the hapless McDonalds workers dealing with the Brazilian culture, five of them in total, against only one "associate" manning the register, all with varying levels of English comphrehension levels, all of them ordering differently, and with different expectations - the obligatory McHopelessly obese shift manager was not amused, not hardly) and, more importantly, they bought me food, to show that they are good people, which they are.
What they don't realize, or care about, is the fact that it's not proper here for a 20-something horndog to be macking out on a teenage schoolgirl, even if the girl looks like she's 22. Well, it's their vacation. I should mention that there was also two other teenagers making out too.
And don't think for a minute that I'm some kind of moral police either, although I'll have to admit to getting a little Travis Bickle rush there for awhile.
Not that the feeling lasted very long. Once I got rid of them all I had to haul ass to the bus stop. I barely made it, had to cross against a red light (Mr. P, you sanctimonious hypocrite and scofflaw!) and considered myself very lucky indeed as a classic "Third Bike" scenario was developing on the bus, in fact one of the most elaborate ever, the most expansive I've ever seen.
First I should explain:
Anyone who rides the bus knows this, and you've likely seen it if you were looking closely enough, but most public transit buses have room for two bikes to be carried in the front, outside mind you, all strapped in. It's very convenient for the bike riders, especially since it's a relatively new convenience offered by at least MTA and Foothill Transit, just in the last ten years or so, because let's face it, if you're on the bus in SoCal, that means you're walkin' a hell of alot, and maybe you might be better served making part of the trip on something less demanding and quicker - like a bicycle. Okay, that makes sense. And I did this myself for quite some time until I just couldn't take it anymore, I could no longer bring myself to do it. Why?
Well, it's all about being the Third Bike.
Let's say you're hanging at the bus stop and you've got your bike and you're all ready to go, and you've been waiting for awhile because the buses only run once every half hour at best and lots of times once every hour, so you're eager to get on, to get where you're going, to be there, finally, the hell with this bus shit and all that, and here the bus comes and gosh darn it, well, there seems to be two bikes already strapped in and you realize to your dismay that there's no room for you and that, in harsh bus terms, YOU'RE SHIT OUT OF LUCK.
Sorry, that's all there is to it. If you're that Third Bike, forget it, you have two options, you can either
A) Leave your bike behind, chain it to the sign pole or something, or
2) Wait for the next bus
Sometimes, and I've seen this, it's the last bus of the night. Imagine that. The last bus of the night, and you're the third bike. (Sounds like a song, doesn't it?) And, yes, it happened to me more than once. Really, I think it took about the third time I got stuck way the fuck far away from my apartment and I'm standing there thinking, "What the hell is so convenient about this? If I'm walking, I'm on that damn bus, simple as that!"
So it's a bit of a live and learn thing, and on this night, even after the Brazilians, I got to watch several have to deal with being the Third Bike. There was two on the bus when I got on, and one woman who was stuck being the Third Bike. Making it worse for her, she was with someone not on a bike, and he got to get on the bus while she quite forlornly had to pedal it away. I was keeping tabs of this guy on the bus. He had a really guilty look on his face. However, he got off after about a mile and a half, so if they were going to the same place, she was only slightly screwed.
Later, we pull up to a stop and there are two kids waiting with bikes, punk rock kids, I've seen them before I think, sometimes they're on skateboards. Anyhow, the bus saw them and wasn't even going to stop until they screamed out. Maybe they thought they could negotiate their way on, I don't know, it didn't work, the driver was denying them, big time. However, that didn't deter the spiky blond-haired one with the Ataris T-shirt, he just threw it in the bushes, abandoned it, and hopped on board. This was a weird enough bus as it was because the driver had groupies, or whatever, a couple of nut jobs that were up in front talking with him and making an occasionally bizarre remark. They were rendered speechless by this move, it was such a brazen act of abandonment, such a, well, a punk rock move - if it's impeding your progress, get rid of it, fuck it! I was pretty damn impressed too, although, I think it all boiled down to the less ballsy but no less impressive move of screwing his other friend, who opted not to abandon his bike and, as we pulled away, seemed to be stuck with both of them, waiting another half hour for the next bus, no doubt wondering how he would get screwed on that one.
Then later, still another guy tried to get on with a bike. He got lucky. One of the bike riders was getting off at the next stop and so the bus driver allowed him enough time to get over there so he wouldn't get shut out. It would have made at least four on one ride, and that's way more than I've ever seen.
Tuesday, July 22, 2003
WHILE I WAS AWAY FROM MY DESK
So many subjects, so little time.
It's been a strange week. I was in Santa Monica last Thursday, just by coincidence, and I went down to the Promenade to see first hand how people were dealing with the Farmer's Market tragedy. I didn't want to, necessarily, but I realized that, hey, I work for the Pasadena Weekly, I would be shirking my duties if I didn't at least wander around a bit and observe the scene. Of course Big Media was all over the place, in the form of news vans and photographers. I took a few pictures myself and filed a report that should run in the next issue that will be out on Thursday.
I was almost involved in a traffic accident myself last Friday, as I was driving a couple of student groups to Old Town Pasadena. When they told me I would be driving the "old" van, I just had a bad feeling about it and sure enough by the time I got into the carpool lane there was a huge BOOM, and you know it's a blowout and then the Italian kids started screaming (Of course, I've been telling them from the get-go that they have to stay buckled up, but they consistently ignore me) and I'm trying to stay calm and the van starts fishtailing a bit and, you know, this is less than a week since FOX 11 aired their piece on how unsafe 15-passenger vans are and how they roll over and everyone dies.
I was a bit scared at this point.
Not only did I have to maneuver the van back from its zigging and zagging, I also had to get it off to the side of the freeway, across four lanes of traffic. An odd thing about all this, as I switched from lane to lane, is that the van didn't have that flat tire feel, you know what I mean, a kind of earthquake type shaking and the ominous clatter of the metal rim meeting the freeway asphalt. So I had alot more control of the vehicle than I thought I would. That was the good part.
The bad part was - no one would let me over.
Let's recap for a second. I've experienced a blowout and I'm scared and I'm carrying at least ten passengers, all of them foreigners save for me and the activity guide. I'm expecting complete loss of control of my van but it's hanging in there and I realize I can get it to the side of the road without anything bad happening. I've alternately got my turn signal on and my emergency flashers going. And for my trouble all I get is car after car passing me on the right and speeding around me.
Let's, to use an academic term, "unpack" this scenario for a moment. I've been railing privately for years that drivers today for the most part are a bunch of idiots that have zero concern for anyone and anything outside of their glass and metal sphere. In my neighborhood I have watched literally hundreds of cars speed through the streets and approach stop signs as if it were a game of chicken. "Well, if there is no reason to stop," they seem to believe "then I don't really have to." Then a pesky pedestrian will ruin everything by insisting on using the crosswalk and the approaching car oftentimes has to slam on the brakes to stop on time. This shit has been going on for years. Everything about driving now is centered around drive time and convenience. If it's inconvenient to follow all the rules, then there is no need to follow them. Everyone seems to know that there is about a one in a million chance of getting pulled over by the cops for going 80 MPH or doing that illegal U-Turn.
Passing a car on the right is more of a gray area. It's not recommended but I don't believe it is against the law. Of course, many big huge semi-trucks have signs on the back that advise against it, for example "Left side - Suicide". Okay, so hardly anyone fucks with a truck, but otherwise it's just one big "get there by any means necessary" vibe on the roads, and any common courtesy like say "Let's let this major accident waiting to happen get off the road" is not on the top of the list of driving etiquette anymore. I don't know, maybe it never was. But I don't recall 10-20 years ago the amount of cars going 80 in the slow lane and so forth. One thing is for sure, they don't teach this in driver education. So as I'm freaking out and trying to save everyone's life, dozens of cars are jetting past me on the right. I mean you can see them in the side mirror approaching and then making their split second decision (imagine that process, "Hmm, slow car ahead, but that doesn't deter me, I am an American and I have the liberty to drive any stupid way I want.") to zoom around you. If they slowed down just a bit and evaluated the situation for a second, they might just stay in the same lane until the slow car is out of their way or they might do the "man's" way and pass on the left. I mean that's really what its about for me. If you're a "man" you pass on the left. If you are a "pussy" you pass on the right. And there was no one type vehicle that cruised around me - SUVs, souped up Hondas, beat up Caddys - it was an equal opportunity screw job. People just don't give a crap. Well, one car did. There was one car that realized I was in trouble and stayed behind me and had the balls to grab the right lane ahead of me so I could get over. Thank you, whoever you are, from the bottom of my heart. Still, it took at least a mile and a half for this to happen.
When I finally did reach the side of the road I made a discovery which partially explained why no one believed the van was in trouble. It didn't turn out to be a complete blowout. The tread came off, and in so doing it ripped open a radiator line, but the tire never went completely flat. Of course, you don't know that when you're driving. That was huge, the difference perhaps between laughing about it later or spending the next few days digging graves. In the end I blame my work for sending me out in such a piece of shit to begin with (remember, I just had a feeling) but maybe that was why I got treated to dinner a little later by the boss.
In any case, we never made it to Pasadena.
So many subjects, so little time.
It's been a strange week. I was in Santa Monica last Thursday, just by coincidence, and I went down to the Promenade to see first hand how people were dealing with the Farmer's Market tragedy. I didn't want to, necessarily, but I realized that, hey, I work for the Pasadena Weekly, I would be shirking my duties if I didn't at least wander around a bit and observe the scene. Of course Big Media was all over the place, in the form of news vans and photographers. I took a few pictures myself and filed a report that should run in the next issue that will be out on Thursday.
I was almost involved in a traffic accident myself last Friday, as I was driving a couple of student groups to Old Town Pasadena. When they told me I would be driving the "old" van, I just had a bad feeling about it and sure enough by the time I got into the carpool lane there was a huge BOOM, and you know it's a blowout and then the Italian kids started screaming (Of course, I've been telling them from the get-go that they have to stay buckled up, but they consistently ignore me) and I'm trying to stay calm and the van starts fishtailing a bit and, you know, this is less than a week since FOX 11 aired their piece on how unsafe 15-passenger vans are and how they roll over and everyone dies.
I was a bit scared at this point.
Not only did I have to maneuver the van back from its zigging and zagging, I also had to get it off to the side of the freeway, across four lanes of traffic. An odd thing about all this, as I switched from lane to lane, is that the van didn't have that flat tire feel, you know what I mean, a kind of earthquake type shaking and the ominous clatter of the metal rim meeting the freeway asphalt. So I had alot more control of the vehicle than I thought I would. That was the good part.
The bad part was - no one would let me over.
Let's recap for a second. I've experienced a blowout and I'm scared and I'm carrying at least ten passengers, all of them foreigners save for me and the activity guide. I'm expecting complete loss of control of my van but it's hanging in there and I realize I can get it to the side of the road without anything bad happening. I've alternately got my turn signal on and my emergency flashers going. And for my trouble all I get is car after car passing me on the right and speeding around me.
Let's, to use an academic term, "unpack" this scenario for a moment. I've been railing privately for years that drivers today for the most part are a bunch of idiots that have zero concern for anyone and anything outside of their glass and metal sphere. In my neighborhood I have watched literally hundreds of cars speed through the streets and approach stop signs as if it were a game of chicken. "Well, if there is no reason to stop," they seem to believe "then I don't really have to." Then a pesky pedestrian will ruin everything by insisting on using the crosswalk and the approaching car oftentimes has to slam on the brakes to stop on time. This shit has been going on for years. Everything about driving now is centered around drive time and convenience. If it's inconvenient to follow all the rules, then there is no need to follow them. Everyone seems to know that there is about a one in a million chance of getting pulled over by the cops for going 80 MPH or doing that illegal U-Turn.
Passing a car on the right is more of a gray area. It's not recommended but I don't believe it is against the law. Of course, many big huge semi-trucks have signs on the back that advise against it, for example "Left side - Suicide". Okay, so hardly anyone fucks with a truck, but otherwise it's just one big "get there by any means necessary" vibe on the roads, and any common courtesy like say "Let's let this major accident waiting to happen get off the road" is not on the top of the list of driving etiquette anymore. I don't know, maybe it never was. But I don't recall 10-20 years ago the amount of cars going 80 in the slow lane and so forth. One thing is for sure, they don't teach this in driver education. So as I'm freaking out and trying to save everyone's life, dozens of cars are jetting past me on the right. I mean you can see them in the side mirror approaching and then making their split second decision (imagine that process, "Hmm, slow car ahead, but that doesn't deter me, I am an American and I have the liberty to drive any stupid way I want.") to zoom around you. If they slowed down just a bit and evaluated the situation for a second, they might just stay in the same lane until the slow car is out of their way or they might do the "man's" way and pass on the left. I mean that's really what its about for me. If you're a "man" you pass on the left. If you are a "pussy" you pass on the right. And there was no one type vehicle that cruised around me - SUVs, souped up Hondas, beat up Caddys - it was an equal opportunity screw job. People just don't give a crap. Well, one car did. There was one car that realized I was in trouble and stayed behind me and had the balls to grab the right lane ahead of me so I could get over. Thank you, whoever you are, from the bottom of my heart. Still, it took at least a mile and a half for this to happen.
When I finally did reach the side of the road I made a discovery which partially explained why no one believed the van was in trouble. It didn't turn out to be a complete blowout. The tread came off, and in so doing it ripped open a radiator line, but the tire never went completely flat. Of course, you don't know that when you're driving. That was huge, the difference perhaps between laughing about it later or spending the next few days digging graves. In the end I blame my work for sending me out in such a piece of shit to begin with (remember, I just had a feeling) but maybe that was why I got treated to dinner a little later by the boss.
In any case, we never made it to Pasadena.
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