Untrained

(This entry is rated Blog-MA for strong language - sorry Mom, had to do it.)

As you have undoubtedly heard, there was a major train accident in Los Angeles this week. The accident involved two Metrolink commuter trains. I ride Metrolink to work three or four days a week and can only imagine what the experience was like for the people on those trains.

Metrolink has scrambled to maintain some semblance of service on the affected lines. For the last couple days they have been bussing people around the crash scene to the station where I normally board to go home.

This evening my train sat in the station and waited thirty to forty-five minutes for these shuttle buses. While I waited I was treated to one side of a conversation with Metrolink customer service. These quotes will give you a sense of the caller's point of view:

"Why are they holding my train at the station?"

"It doesn't take 30 minutes to get from Glendale to Burbank on a bus."

"I missed the last train and this one is just sitting here."

"What are you going to do about it?"

What a fucking moron. Eleven people died this week on these trains. Eleven people. Unlike Mr. F. Moron with his cell phone and his limited awareness, they aren't coming home a little late - they're coming home in a pine box. Is it killing you to sit and wait for a little bit? Is your time so much more valuable than all the people coming in from the other station? Are you so shallow that the thought of spending a few quiet minutes with yourself fills you with dread?

(For those of you who don't like rhetorical questions, the answers are Apparently, You May Think So But You're Wrong, and Sure Looks That Way To Me.)

I didn't feel one bit bad when he stood up quickly and hit his head - hard - on the bulkhead.