There are many things that confuse me about the behavior of the people I encounter during my commutes but there are also actions of brands, organizations, and establishments that boggle my mind as well. For instance, those eateries and coffee shop establishments that try to draw in patrons under the guise of roomy cafeterias and some "comfortable" seating with the carrot of free or quasi-free WiFi.

Trouble is you cannot have a conversation in-person or on the phone because, often times, music blares from multiple overhead speakers. It's not enough that the music they blare is outdated, exotic or just flat out artistic-nasty, but can often be heard on broken equipment producing static and other alien noises.

Who the heck wants to hear a coffee fueled waif with a voice that resembles something from the leftover pile of the Beetlejuice soundtrack singing a Joan Baez-like remake of an originally bad 80s micro hit? Not I!

So, Starbucks, Cosi, and the other chains (some with names I admit I cannot spell - A Pret Manger, or something) should take a lesson from some of the smaller, family/independently run shops. Make it practical, not fashionable, to grab a seat, enjoy your coffee and facilitate a conversation. Crap! We might stay longer and buy more!
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The Natives Get Restless

Ok. So two buses never showed up at Port Authority. In NYC that means typical, fairly conservative business people transform to red mad, drooling lunatics ready to grab pitchforks and torches. Ok, ok, perhaps that's just me but the swearing and huffing/puffing was all out from my neighbors on line. Go figure. NJ Transit is increasing prices, cutting service and still can't manage to show up on the still scheduled time slots. Plus, WHERE's the darn help or announcements! Ug! I must be asking for too much. Where ARE my rolaids?
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Bad breath

Virgin Atlantic.

In the middle of three seats.

Lovely woman next to me with BAD BREATH.

I am talking death level. I wanted to give her gum and ask her to see her doctor.

Spent journey with eyemask over nose.

blerurhdghgohghgh

Who owns the train schedules?

This is a good question. Not, it seems, the commuter.

Here is an extract from Station Stops over the fact they are being sued by the MTA for publishing an iphone app:

Here’s the current status of our fight with MTA:

Right now, MTA has dropped complaint against my website, and their focus is only on my iPhone application. The cease and desist we received stated that the app infringed on MTA’s intellectual property. The rest of the C&D consisted of ‘confusion and customer support issue’ claims which are addressed in StationStop’s disclaimer language.

We sent a written reply dismissing their claims, but encouraging them to return to the negotiating table over a licensing contract.

MTA replied that they still stood behind their claims, but agreed that negotiation was in both party’s best interest. They offered to negotiate in return for my sales data as a first step, which I provided to them yesterday.

We await their response.

Meanwhile, Apple has not taken action on MTA’s written letter requesting the removal of our app from the iTunes App Store. We have contacted Apple regarding this letter but have received no response from them.

My lawyer has asked me not to print the cease and desist nor our reply or apple letters as a courtesy to MTA’s response to return to the negotiating table.

www.stationstops.com

No AC in DC?!

My trek too and from DC was an average experience. It started with a surprisingly pleasant voyage on the 6:40am Metroliner from NJ to our nation's capital with very little to observe and comment on since there were about two people, some tumbleweeds and a family of crickets filling some of the trains seats. Basically, I was up and about way too early. I powered up the laptop and cranked out some work while jammin' to some less-than-new thrash chops which is much better than caffeine (more about caffeine later) for a hot early morning excursion. Shame that there was no one around. The Anthrax (the band!) on the headphones was making me feel particularly devious.

My first meeting was uneventful as far as interesting "oh my god did you see that" qualities are concerned. The exception was the reliability of technology being, well, unreliable. Still, it was a good romp around the corporate world of "look what I have if you're buying".

Following the first meeting I camped out at a sort of high-end indoor mall-meets-food court-meets-corporate office environment. It had "free" Wifi...or so I was told. It was an evil trick since you needed a password to take advantage of it. The password must have been "yeahright" or "nofrigginchancejackass". Predictably, no one knew what the password was to the "free" Wifi. The joke was definitely on the silly traveling man needing to get urgent messages in and out of his laptop. Typical.

Then I made the mistake of walking about 10 blocks in the heat and humidity (and the political aura) of DC. Man, I wish I lived "in a pineapple under the sea" cause this sponge needed to cool down. I was drenched.

I began to look for a concrete oasis but all I found was a Star-Schmucks which is not hard since they are EVERYWHERE! After grabbing an iced beverage ("it's a Grande not a Medium) I continued my travels, however, not before realizing that the Seattle cult has brainwashed their employees and customers to the point of ridiculousness. Why the F can't I order a simple iced decaf? Why is it an iced decaf Americano? Riddle me that Batman. It's dark friggin' water on ice!!! How's that? A shot? Unless it's JD, something else with alcoholic bite, a darn needle in the arm or something that hits you in the face during a bar brawl, it's no shot! And what's the deal with walkie talkies and code and secret handshakes (I know I was in DC but still) and winking to one another and ... aaauuuggghhh! I just want coffee. Remember that?

So, I continued, blood pressure higher, emails still in my outbox and a quickly warming grande iced Americano decaf (or something like that) without a shot of Bacardi 151 in my hand. I then realized how enormous the cult is. There's a Star-Schmucks on every block. It's like a pub crawl with less fun "shots".

Then I was reminded that I was in DC. The Greenpeace crew camped out on every corner asked me if I had a moment and if I cared about the environment (which I do) and blah, blah, blah. Now, isn't part of their name PEACE? Then they should leave us a-lone. There were about 20 of them on each corner blabbering some stat that was supposed to terrify me into doing something overly Woodstocky (happy 40th by the way!) granola-like. I avoided them like a skier around the gates.

My next two meetings went without a hitch, I had a pleasant dinner, snuggled up to my laptop for another two hours and found myself back on the Metroliner headed to NJ where I am now typing this note which had no purpose, no meaning, just to simply rant while I mellow to the Allman's hoping that this train will miraculously consume a Star-Schmucks shot so it will arrive at my destination even five minutes faster!

Please forgive any spelling errors. My BB is being less than civil today.
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The end of Happy Motoring

Mr Kunstler has some brilliance on car commuting here:
http://kunstler.com/blog/2009/08/the-first-die-off.html#more

Grumpy, Dopey and Sleepy rolled into one

I know it's way early to rant about a commuting experience but I must. This guy continues to piss me off at his lack of consideration so, he has become my latest Warfare target.

I ride NJ Transit's bus line a little less regularly than I used to and boy, I don't miss it, especially due one particular guy. This sour-faced, personality-challenged idiot is the the guy pretending to work the ticket counter. The best way to describe him is a dreaded combination of Sleepy, Dopey and Grumpy -- an appropriate selection of the famous dwarves -- rolled into a lovely salad sprinkled with obnoxiousness and garnished with distain.

Normally this dude spews sour stares when you dare to interrupt his newspaper reading to ask him to do his job of selling you a ticket. Understand, we're not asking HIM for money, selling him anything or asking him to do something that's not, well, HIS FRIGGIN' JOB! There's never a "thank you" or a "good morning", just tart stares back because you messed with his reading pleasure.

This morning I made the mistake of asking him for a receipt for my $8.75 one-way ticket to Port Authority. Man, the stare I got was brutal. It was as if I asked the slob to hop on a pole to relieve a scarecrow during a coffeebreak. Just gimme the darn receipt!

I've thought about badgering him. I've considered killing him with kindness (and yes, maybe just killing him). Rather, I've decided to ignore his rudeness, return the lack of thanks and carry on throughout my day. The way I see it, he's got some other issues. Let him wallow. I have www.commuterwarfare.com to help me vent.

Dude, you have a job! Be grateful!
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