I thought I had taken the courtesy thing about as far as I could push it, with my LIRR Commuter from Hell. It was just anti-social enough to help me deal with the cretins and keep the blood pressure down.

Now, I see another pinhead has taken this concept to a whole new level: 

Long Island resident John Clifford has, by his own account, punched one woman in the head and poured his coffee on another. He's interrupted cell-phone conversations and yelled at others who managed to make his morning commute from Long Beach to Penn Station miserable. Clifford says he's tired of rude behavior.

The retired New York City police officer, who is now a lawyer, has been arrested or issued a summons by MTA police eight times since March 2003 for his conduct on trains and at Penn Station. He says his friends call him the "train terrorist."

Through all of his arrests, Clifford said, none of the charges have stuck because his accusers never show up in court. The police officers and train conductors who wrote the formal complaints never witnessed his actions.

But Gerry Bringmann, of the LIRR Commuter's Council says Clifford is "a vigilante" whose aggressive actions should not be tolerated.  Clifford has a November court date for his latest dustup, a March incident in which he smacked a woman and yelled at a man riding the train with him. He says all he wants is for the LIRR to designate one car on each train a quiet car, where loud talking and cell-phone conversations would be forbidden.

That's awesome . . .

>

Source:
LIRR 'train terrorist' takes courtesy enforcement to new level
Eyewitness News
Long Beach - WABC, October 15, 2007) -
http://abclocal.go.com/wabc/story?section=local&id=5707708

Posted at 05:30 AM in LIRR Commuter From Hell | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBack

This foul pig not only was on the phone the entire trip, the heinous witch was wearing a full bottle of cologne: Stinky!

Posted at 11:12 AM in LIRR Commuter From Hell | Permalink | Comments (5) | TrackBack

This lady seems to think that its perfectly acceptable airport terminal behavior to file her nails down for 20 minutes.  I guess I should be thankful that she never pulled out the nail polish and acetone.

Posted at 04:04 PM in LIRR Commuter From Hell | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack

I have lots of LIRR miscreants in the queue, but this LIRR customer couldn't wait. He was in such a hurry to park on 10/15/06, that he overshot the lot and ended up plowing into the stairway.

Hey dude, there's always another train coming!

How funny is this:

Posted at 05:54 AM in LIRR Commuter From Hell | Permalink | Comments (6) | TrackBack

Well, almost. The Wimps at the gray lady didn't post a link! What a buncha chickens.

Here's the story info:

As the train neared Hunterspoint Avenue, one commuter revealed his own approach to problems on the train: "If there's really bad behavior on the train, I simply take a cellphone photo and post it to my Web site."

He has nicknamed some offenders: the Baritone, Barefoot Guy [not to be confused with foot man] and Nail Polish Narcissist. "I realized I needed a healthier outlet than sending my blood pressure up by getting into an argument," he said.

[LIRR Commuter Council] Ms. Krebelj-Douglas was amused by his solution, and she sees humor as part of the Commuters Council's approach, too.

"Ideally, we'd like the L.I.R.R. to put up posters based on our research," she said. "Something clever that pokes fun at it, that doesn't feel like a lecture."

Source:
If Train Riders Don't Mind Their Manners, a Commuter Group Will
BEN GIBBERD
NYTimes, June 9, 2006
http://www.nytimes.com/2006/06/09/nyregion/nyregionspecial2/11litrain.html

Posted at 12:42 PM in LIRR Commuter From Hell | Permalink | Comments (4) | TrackBack

The WSJ reports:

"While riding public bus 68X on the night of April 29, Elvis Ho tapped the shoulder of a passenger sitting in front of him who was talking on a cellphone. The 23-year-old Mr. Ho asked the man to lower his voice. Mr. Ho called him "uncle," a familiar way of addressing an elder male in Cantonese.

Instead of complying, the man turned around and berated Mr. Ho for nearly six minutes, peppering his outburst with obscenities.

"I've got pressure, you've got pressure!" the older man exploded. "Why did you have to provoke me?" A nearby passenger who found the encounter interesting captured most of it on video with his own cellphone, and it was posted on the Web.

"Bus Uncle," as the older man is now known, has since become a Hong Kong sensation. The video, including subtitled versions, has been downloaded nearly five million times from YouTube.com, a popular Web site for video clips.

Teenagers and adults here sprinkle their conversations with phrases borrowed from Bus Uncle's rant, such as "I've got pressure!" and "It's not over!" (shouted when the young man tried to end the conversation several times by saying, "It's over"). Also, there are several insults involving mothers. Web sites peddle T-shirts with a cartoon of Bus Uncle and the famous phrases. They are also available as mobile-phone ringtones."

Instead of photos, we've got video!

The Original Video:

See these remixed versions also:

巴士阿叔 Bus Uncle (Darth Vader Version)

巴士阿叔 Bus Uncle (Adagio For Strings)

>

Source:
A Six-Minute Tirade On a Hong Kong Bus Rides Into Vernacular
Mr. Chan's Pressured Rant Turns Into Web Sensation;
Ringtones and Remixes
GEOFFREY A. FOWLER
WSJ, June 7, 2006; Page A1
http://online.wsj.com/article/SB114962497534572979.html

Posted at 06:53 AM in LIRR Commuter From Hell | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBack

This pair of cuties were on a late (but packed) Thursday night train on the Port Washington line.

They were both sloppy drunk, filling the car with drunken gossipy giggles. The brunette rode the phone the whole way home -- the entire trip. I got so annoyed that I could hear her EVEN OVER THE IPOD that I stood up and took a picture with her staring right at me. The second girl -- the one with the lower back tatt -- keeled over and passed out around Douglaston.

The funniest part of their show was watching a series of younger guys approach them. They each looked like they were about to lay a line or two on our drunken friends, but watching the sloppy behavior, must have thought better of it. My guess is they decided these girls were too annoying to be bothered with.

Check out the red bull and tatt

Imagine that:  Even if you are a cute, drunk, 20 something girl, your phone etiquette can offput males of the same age group -- guys that will hit on a drunken girl even as she vomits -- yet the phone blab bothered them. Go figure.

Posted at 06:40 AM in LIRR Commuter From Hell | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBack

This is the first LCFH that (eventually, anyway) made everyone around him happy.

Here's the story: Early train in, usual crowd, quietly chatting or reading their NYT, WSJ, or paperback novels.

Bluetooth Guy has a new toy -- his wireless Bluetooth earpiece. So he's holding the phone at arms length (see photo below), and talking LOUDLY into his headset.

He is oblivious. Discussing the mundanities of life: the problem with the furnance, howsdawife n da gurls, and other middling inanities.

He is loud enough that people around him start to talk about how loud and rude he is -- openly, right in front of him. Oblivious man keeps on chattering, and his conversation is so accidentally ridiculous that people sitting nearby start tittering -- almost giggling at the absurdity of the situation.

One fellow commuter mocks a parallel loud phone call -- only without a phone!

HELLO FRED!
How's it going?
Fine, and you?
On the train. 
UH huh

It was quite amusing, and everyone around starts laughing. 

Then the oblivious Bluetooth Guy starts discussing his high pressure water cleaner, and people begin giggling a bit. Not very loud, but the situation has shifted from annoyance to bemused outrage.

Then, the coup d'grace: Bluetooth Guy starts talking about his Weed-whacker and then Angela, the woman sitting directly in front of him, begins to laugh -- long, hard and loud. Evreryone sitting nearby begins to laugh out loud also.

Everytime the guys says the word Weed-whacker, she cracks up harder. Soon we are all laughing nearly uncontrollably, and Bluetooth Weed-whacker Guy finally gets off the phone, as oblivious to the events around him as when the train pulled out of Roslyn in the first place.

We wipe the tears from our eyes. Best ride into the city in a long time . . .

Bluetooth Weed-whacker Guy

Angela sitting in front of the Bluetooth Weed-whacker Guy . . .

Posted at 10:37 AM in LIRR Commuter From Hell | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBack

There's no other way to describe this guy, other than to note he is a LOUD talker.

Not a little loud -- but VERY LOUD, as if the person on the other end of the phone was hard of hearing.

When LOUD guy finished his LOUD conversation, he was (Bless his heart!) all tuckered out. His LOUD talking led to a quick nap, where he (thankfully) did not snore.

As if I have to repeat it, yet again:

The microphones on cells phones are very sensitive with not particularly good fidelity. Your yelling doesn't help the other person hear you, and only annoys everyonme around you.

Please get a clue . . .

Posted at 10:28 AM in LIRR Commuter From Hell | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Okay, this doesn't really qualify as a true LIRR commuter from hell -- the driver of this car wasn't bothering anyone, so technically, they aren't a CFH.

But how often do you get to see this?  A brand new Maserati Gran Sport GT Coupe in the station parking lot (thats the 6:06 in the background).

My LIRR station parking lot is typically filled with Bimmers, Range Rovers, Benzs, even an SL55. This Maserati was a first.

Welcome to Long Island

Posted at 05:58 AM in LIRR Commuter From Hell | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack

Say hello to Rose Marie. She sounds like a Real Estate attorney/mortgage broker/agent, as best as I can tell.

The entire leg of the trip to Jamaica was filled with her incessant ramblings about some deal or another:

"Bart had $10,000 fee
theres a problem with Judy
I'm rushing out at 4:30
we have a meeting tomorrow

blah blah blah. No one around you wants to hear it (thank God for the iPod) and for that, you are today's LIRR Commuter from Hell:

How about a big cup of Shut TF Up!

Posted at 07:04 AM in LIRR Commuter From Hell | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack

By now, you can tell I am annoyed by the rude wankers on NY area commuter lines who abuse their cell phones and disturb everyone around them. Its rude, its selfish, its a modern technological annoyance, as hardware outpaces society's adaptive mores for using these tools. 

But what about real wankers -- the guys who whip it out in public, the johnson tuggers, and other offensive harrassers? Dangerous louts who are more than merely annoying?

Well, that's where Holla Back NYC -- and the phone cam -- comes in:

Holla Back NYC gives New Yorkers the right to Holla Back at street harassers. Whether you're commuting, lunching, partying, dancing, walking, chilling, drinking, or sunning, you have the right to feel safe, confident, and sexy, without being the object of some dickwad's fantasy. So stop walkin' on and Holla Back!   

Happy Jack: Spank monkey caught on film phone cam

Posted at 04:11 PM in Current Affairs, LIRR Commuter From Hell, Photo Caption Contest! | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBack

Here's what we know about this young lady (who got on the 4:18 from Hunterspoint to Oyster Bay at Jamaica):

• She has a very LOUD husky voice;
• She is, like, totally stressed out (like, omigod!);
• Not afraid to put her feet up on the furniture;
• She would marry Chris, in, like, a minute -- he cooks great Italian food, and is awesome on the Piano

Our advice to Chris: RUN! Save yourself! Run far, far away . . .

Posted at 05:24 AM in LIRR Commuter From Hell | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBack

Here's a request:  If you have a whiskey tinged, smokers' voice -- like you've been on a worldwide tour with Buddy Guy for 25 years -- and on top of the gravel throat, you speak with a heavy accent, then I have a request for you:

Would you please keep your telephone conversations to under 45 minutes? Thanks.

This fur clad Tom Waits sound-alike (below) was so engrossed in her conversation that she missed looking at the birdie and forgot to say "Cheese!"

By the way, I am getting really good at covertly reaching out with the phone and snapping a photo before anyone has the slightest clue what's going on.

Posted at 06:45 AM in LIRR Commuter From Hell | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack

Its like the title of a book: Inane Conversationalists and the Women they Drone into Comas:

Its not that this guy was terribly loud or even so annoying; Rather, its just that his conversation, which lasted from Glen Head to Mineola -- was soooooo inane:

How is work? (uh huh)

How are the girls?  

What's Judy driving now?

How's Bob?

And on and on. Just loud enough to be background drone, for nearly a half hour . . .  Bor-ing!

>

Posted at 07:26 AM in LIRR Commuter From Hell | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack

This guy gets on the Thursday night train and -- I am not making this up -- uses his cell to call tech support about his new digital camera. 

Or to be more precise, he called tech support about his "fucking camera" that wont "fucking work" and did not come with the "fucking memory chip" it was supposed to.

ON THE TRAIN FOR ALL TO HEAR.

As if that wasn't rude enough, he starts berating this poor woman at support "Hey honey, What time is it in Bombay?"

It was like a car wreck that you ddon't want to see, but cannot turn away from on the highway.

I didn't know whether to laugh or cry over this buffoon. For the record, I did neither, just cranked up the iPod.

Ahhh . . . Sweet, sweet iPod, defender of the pure, shield against the loutish buffoonery of my fellows . . .

Posted at 06:58 AM in LIRR Commuter From Hell | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack

This guy's crime wasn't his incessant phone chatter -- he only spoke for 10 minutes, which doesn't even get him into the VIP room at Club Rude. Indeed, on the LIRR that makes him only a minor selfish putz, and not a full blown cretin.

However, his voice was this enormo booming Baritone -- LOUD -- and he could easily do voice overs for game shows or commercials

Tell him what he's won, Don Pardo! A New Car!

If your voice commands the attention of Privates and Corporals, Children and Dogs, then how about taking it into the vestibule? Please?

>

UPDATE: January 27, 2006  7:30am

How bad does this suck? My phone's camera died. Its just "hangs" when I go to take a picture, showing the hourglass -- forever. 

Any one have any thougths on the RAZR? David Pogue trashed it in the NYT yesterday . . .

Posted at 10:02 AM in LIRR Commuter From Hell | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack

Here's a product suggestion for the LIRR commute, from the BradMan. Its a nice way to tell rude talkers to step outside and blow their conversations the other way.

via Knock Knock

Posted at 06:47 AM in LIRR Commuter From Hell | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack

So I'm on the later train, the 8:43am into Hunterspoint -- sitting in front of a pair of twentysomethings having the most interesting and hysterical conversation with each other.

Every other word from this pair of high school buds was "Like, you know" and "Whatever" and "Omigod." It was as if we put in a request to central casting for a pair of valley girls. Like, omigod!

Not only that, but the words "Gay" and "Lesbian" got mentioned -- alot, too.  There was even the Seinfeldian "like, not that there's anything wrong with that."  It seems that alot of their mutual High School and college friends turned out to be lesbians, including one who, like, you know, had a boyfriend!

How  did I know all this? Easy -- I was sitting a row in front of them!

Best of luck to you ladies -- and your gal pals! (not that there's anything wrong with that).

Posted at 10:23 AM in LIRR Commuter From Hell | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBack

This is Paul.

Paul needs a ride home.

Paul calls people on his cell phone -- LOUDLY -- to beg for a ride.

Paul tries calling Chris to give him a lift.

Chris won't answer Paul's call.  Paul's brilliant solution: Talk even louder.

We don't blame Chris one single bit ; We wouldn't answer Paul's calls either.

We admit it: We are jealous of Chris . . .

Posted at 09:38 AM in LIRR Commuter From Hell | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Normally, when a commuter is loud, obnoxious and rude on the train, someone will eventually say something. The exception is when a person is so offensively heinous that the crowd is stunned into dumbfounded silence.

That's what happened with this fowl creature: She was wearing too much make up, too much jewelry -- too much everything!  She yammered on the phone for most of the trip from Roslyn to Jamaica, where she thankfully got off the train to go haunt someother group of people.

We were all stunned by the sheer horror that was her horrendous nonstop voice. Once she got off the train, the spell was broken. Everyone around her broke into conversation about  how awful she was.

What made this such a miserable experience was the combination of her voice -- I only wished it was as mildly irritating as fingernails on a chalkboard -- and the language she spoke. Another passenger who knew her said it was Farsi.

Her voice goes a long way towards explaining the tensions in the Middle East. If I had to listen to this 24/7 I would not only get an automatic weapon, I'd use it constantly. Here's a source of the tensions in the Middle East, transposed to our little neck of the woods:

click for a closer view of what Hell is actually populated with

heaven help the people ont his train . . .

Posted at 09:57 AM in LIRR Commuter From Hell | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack

O.K., technically, this guy isn't really a commuter from Hell. He's just another Lawyer, doing work on his laptop, minding his own business.

Just because that business happened to be the bankruptcy application for a client -- the names of which, claimants, bankrupt party (In Re: XXXXX), circumstances, all of which I could clearly read on his screen --  doesn't TRULY make him a commuter from hell. 

It just makes him a lawyer from hell . . .

Posted at 06:09 AM in LIRR Commuter From Hell | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack

How effen annoying is this: this lady, in an attempt to learn English, has an electronic "Spell & Speak"  translating dictionary:

Look, I appreciate that you want to learbn the language of your new country -- thats admirable -- but may I suggest a pair of cheap headphones?  Your new countrymen would appreciate it.

Posted at 07:32 AM in LIRR Commuter From Hell | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBack

How great are these PSA cards, via Aaron Draplin (and Coudal Partners)?

<spacer>

The reasonably polite SHHH, the Society for HandHeld Hushing:

Awesome work, Aaron!

Posted at 06:14 AM in LIRR Commuter From Hell | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Yo G!

You know us?

We be mouthy, obnoxious punks. Loud and foul-mouthed gangsta wannabes. Our parents gots the beuacoup bucks, so we be privileged and entitled and shit.

We're a pair of spoiled brats.

Here's da clues:  We's got no respect for anyone else -- certainly not the bee-yatch LIRR conductor (a nice woman just trying to do her job), who we gave a buncha lip to. She dissed us, askin for our tickets and shit. We wise-assed up some bull-shit about da other conductor on da other train takin em. When she saw through our crap, we gots loud and threatenin on her ass.

Cause that's what wiggers do.

Ain't like we respect our parents neither -- we just squeezin 'em for whatever bling we can get. We don't respect our sibs or teach or anyone else.

Hell, we too dumb to even respect ourselves.

Oh, yeah, and we live in Roslyn.

( Hey, what's that guy doin with the camera phone ?!? )

Posted at 07:21 AM in LIRR Commuter From Hell | Permalink | Comments (7) | TrackBack

After an arduous day that started way too early, I take an early train home. I am sitting one row in front of my usual seat home -- and thank goodness for that.

Sitting 2 rows behind me -- one behind my regular spot -- is this utterly heinous creature.

She was:

- on the phone
- the entire ride home
- in an increasingly loud voice
- speaking only in Russian

Abysmal. The guy sitting in my usual seat -- a carpenter who has a few 2 foot long wood segments on his lap -- somehow manages to sleep through this entire aural assault.

<spacer>

Mobile Yapping Muscovite:
click for a more annoying view

<spacer>
I bought an iPod for this exact scenario (I have a tendency to run into conflicts with these self-absorbed dingbats) Out come the headphones, in goes Matisyahu.

Only our Russian commuter is getting louder and louder, and I can hear her over the Reggae (actually, between the beats). So I switch to the Stones, and she disappears.

Besides, I'm only a stop away. When we are 2 minutes from my stop, I get up, snap a photo (above), and wait for my station.

Only the poor bastard sleeping in front of her is finally awoken by this shrill blonde banshee.

He is not happy . . . And, he is holding large pieces of wood.

He politely -- more or less, and certainly more polite than I would have been in the same cuircumstances -- asks her to keep it down.

Banshee just ignores him -- if anything, she talks louder.

The guy has literally just woken up, and it takes a few seconds for him to realize how he is being dissed by this bitch. So he stands up, and as the train pulls into my station, he stares at her, and in a very loud voice says:

SHUT UP! --  S H U T  U P !! SHUT UP!

She looks to me (of all people) for help. I say: 

"Lady, you were loud and obnoxious all ride. You should do what he asks, and consider yourself lucky he doesn't clock you with the lumber. . ."

For the first time all ride, she is struck dumb.

The doors open at my station. The carpenter and I get off. I go home.

Posted at 11:32 AM in LIRR Commuter From Hell | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBack

What are the odds that on 2 days in a row, I would see this stinkfooted guy :

click for larger pics

Posted at 06:32 AM in LIRR Commuter From Hell | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBack

This Woman's voice fell somewhere between fingernails on a blackboard and a cat being disemboweled alive. Think of Cyndi Lauper's voice on Mad About You -- only 10X more annoying.

Having the world's most annoying voice is a handicap that would normally engender some sympathy -- even pity. ONLY SHE REFUSED TO SHUT UP THE ENTIRE RIDE HOME. Yammering way too loud on the cell phone the entire ride. 

Not just continual noise, but worthless, pointless babble:  She ordered Lemon Chicken for dinner, she had a spat with someone (Husband?  Boyfriend? Therapist?) about some minor offense this poor bastard committed (Seriously, this schmuck should be on suicide watch if he has to endure that voice every day -- If I had to listen to that voice all day long, I'd either kill her -- or myself).

She repeatedly said WAAAT? WAAAT? into the phone in her horrific nasal screetch. 

Here's what the shrill harpy looks like:

The guy across the aisle started saying outloud: BLAH BLAHBLAHBLAHBLAH -- she never got the hint. 

As soon as she left the train, everyone around her (former) seat started talking "Wasn't that the msot annoying voice you ever heard?"

>

Normally, I have the iPod with me so I can escape to some degree; I forgot to charge it after a flight Sunday, so I was trapped with nowhere to go.   

I doubled up on Advil and Tylenol as soon as I got home

Posted at 06:14 AM in Humor, LIRR Commuter From Hell, Travel | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Friday evening, July 4th Holiday weekend. Muggy day, people leaving for the Fourth of July weekend, loaded with bags.

A crowded train, a weekend getaway, whatever shall we do to pass the time? 

I know, lets paint my nails!

Ahhh, sweet, sweet acetone! Has ever a more delightful fragrance wafted across a crowded train?

click for a larger, self obsessed narcissist

Another selfish jerk on the LIRR . . .

Posted at 08:39 AM in Humor, LIRR Commuter From Hell, Travel | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Its Friday afternoon, and it was 91 degrees in the city today. Like everyone else in the city, I just want to go home and peel of my disgusting clothes. I get on the train -- aaahhh, air conditioning! -- and relax. The train is nearfly empty, we pullout and head East.

Then, at Jamaica, this cretin gets on. His working assumption was that we all wanted to see his gnarly, stanky, hot sweaty feet. FOUL!

How selfish -- and clueless -- of a human being to you have to be to behave this way?

When the conductor came by, I asked to be added to the Pedicure list!

If you are wondering, I made absolutely no effort to hide the camera phone . . . got as close as I was willing (no closer than 5 feet max) and snapped away!

>
Given how disgusting some of my fellow riders have been lately, I'm going to keep updating this series on a regular basis: LIRR Commuters from Hell.

Posted at 06:07 AM in Humor, LIRR Commuter From Hell, Travel | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack

This red haired harpy got on an eastbound train in Jamaica, whipped out her hairbrush, and proceeded to fill the car with her scalp cells.

If the rest of her fellow commuters were dust mites or bed bugs, we'd say "Thanks for the Protein." 

Since we are mere Humans, perhaps we might suggest a good dandruff shampoo . . .

>

This is becoming a regular thing: LIRR CFH: The series

Posted at 06:00 AM in LIRR Commuter From Hell | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBack

Do you know this guy?

He works for Shell trading, gets on the LIRR in East Williston -- and for the entire ride into NY, proceeded to  snort, cough, gorgle, hacckkk, grunt, phleeggm, sneccch, blurrp, ecchhhh, and generally make unusual and disturbing sounds:

Solution:  Snap a camera photo and go to the iPod . . .

Posted at 10:54 PM in Humor, LIRR Commuter From Hell, Travel | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Another installment in our continuing series: LIRR CFH. Today's version: The Cellphone Barker -- a whole new breed of rude.

After getting comfortable in my seat, I start reading my paper. A few stops later, I go to the Head in the next car.

Upon returning, I hear a voice -- somewhere between a bark and a bellow -- yammering into a cell phone -- Damn! -- in the seat right behind me!

I sit down, count to 10 (SERENITY NOW!), and the guy gets off the phone. OK, not so bad -- I can handle one phone call from an apparently impolite turd.

10 seconds later, the deep booming voice starts again. Oh, no, a serial caller! My mind flashes to an entire ride with this tawker yapping in that booming voice the whole trip. No good --Totally Unacceptable.

So I turn around, and in a voice somewhere between firm and polite -- but at a slightly lower volume than Cellphone Barker -- I say:

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to please speak lower, or take the call in the vestibule by the doors".

  The guy doesn't acknowledge me a wit -- no nod, no "I'll be right off," doesn't lower his voice -- nothing. Just completely and totally ignores me.

So 10 seconds later, in my best Police Officer voice, I repeat myself: "Sir, I'm sorry, but I going to have to ask you to keep it down, please . . ."

Cellphone Barker ignores me again -- but this time says to the other party on the phone "

Some jerk is rudely interrupting me -- If he keeps it up, I'm gonna have to knock him out

."  In a flash, I am up out of my seatyou never saw a fat bastard move this fast -- and staring down at him, yelling progressively louder. I am, in a word, unembarrassable (thats an entirely 'nother topic) -- but I see that the louder my voice gets, the more Cellphone Barker deflates:

"What? You're going to 'knock me out?' You are THREATENING me -- in FRONT OF a dozen WITNESSES? I have a cell phone too, and my next call is to 911 -- to have you tossed off this train . . . Where's the conductor?"

I storm off, calm down, find the conductor, explain the situation, drag him back to the car. As I approach Cellphone Barker, I say: "All I want is for you to keep it down." That's an opening for him to resolve the situation (if he wants).

Instead, he says: "This jerk rudely interrupted my call."

The conductor -- who has punched my ticket everyday for a year -- looks at me. I say "I asked him to tone it down -- he was bellowing into his phone."

Cellphone Barker makes the fatal play: "I was talking quietly."

Three other people on the train all pipe up -- "No you weren't" -- "This guy was yelling" -- "You were way too loud."

I suddenly become a diplomat: "You don't have to throw him off the train -- just move his seat."

The guy suddenly realizes that he's on the verge of getting tossed. "Prima-Donnas" he grumbles as the conductor moves him tot he back of the train.

Helluva way to start my day . . .

Posted at 11:07 AM in LIRR Commuter From Hell | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBack

Today's CFH entry is short:

Question:  How much cologne do you need to apply in the morning?

Answer:  If your stank makes the eyes of the commuter sitting just one seat in front you burn, well then that's too much cologne.

UNDERSTAND?

The stench was so bad, it overpowered the CCP chip in my phone --

no photo available

Posted at 11:39 AM in LIRR Commuter From Hell | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack

My travail with fellow LIRR cretins commuters continues on unabated. Perhaps by venting my spleen here, I will avoid fisticuffs in the future.

Today's social refuse fall into the two most commonly obnoxious categories: the personal groomer, and the ubiquitous cell phone abuser.

Monday's CFH was a groomer -- a woman, deep in denial of her own middle age, with long dark hair 6 inches past her rounded shoulders. Coming from a meeting with my friend Deb, I boarded the train at the dreaded Penn Station (instead of my usual covert entry at Hunter's Point).

The groomer sat down in the 2 X 2 seat (two rows facing each other). Despite a full train and the presence of people mere inches from her, she whipped out a brush and proceeded to go to town on her "do." Cause really, why do this in the privacy of your own bedroom or even a public toilet, when you can share the joy that are your scalp follicles with 100 strangers?

After 5 minutes of this demonstration of self love, she then leaned over to the alpha next to her and proceeded to eat the nits from her fur . . .


Cretin Commuter # 2 -- a Friday ignoramus -- was a UCPA (ubiquitous cell phone abuser). His name was Mr. Terry, a teacher at the International High School in Manhattan. Mr. Terry was calling Darren's mom cause Darren missed Mr. Terry's class that day -- but Darren was signed into school. Darren's mom didn't speak much English, but his dad, who wasn't home at the moment spoke fluently.

I was three rows away and hard all that. I would imagine that information is supposed to be kept relatively private. no such luck . . .

Posted at 05:10 PM in LIRR Commuter From Hell | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBack

Is it just me, or are people becoming even more rude than before? I may have to start a blog titled "People From Hell" (all due respects to Richard Lewis). I'm sure I can fill a few gigs worth venting about a select few of my fellow commuters on the LawnGyland Rail Road.

Tonight's entry: Heinous Nail File Woman. 

This morning, some quasi-female gets on at Albertson. She sits a but row in front of me, across the aisle, on the South side of the train. I'm looking at her diagonally from over her right shoulder.

The train pulls out of the station, and I'm buried in the Science section of the NYT. Suddenly, a rasping noise. My head pops up at the discomfort of that sound, and I look around.

Its some passenger. This particularly heinous breed of clueless, self-involved protoplasm is actually "doing her nails" on a crowded morning commuter train. I am transfixed in horror as this gnome proceeds to work each nail to a point. All the while, a fine mist of cellulose, amino acids and keratin disburses into the air for the rest of the commuters enjoyment: Breathe deep the morning air!

I am agag over this. Not agog, which I believe involves the dropping of a jaw, but rather agag, which unfortunately has bile rising in my throat.

Nail File Woman is west and south of me, all the better to observe the fine cloud of nail shavings, billowing into the air in response to each stabbing stroke of the file clutched in the harpy's hand; Human deitrius rises in a cloud against the Sunlight streaming through the train car's windows. Its just Gross . . . What a putrid way to start a morning.

Thank God I'm not the poor bastard sitting next to the troll. He's asleep, head back, mouth lolled open so as to better have his aveoli recieve her gift of nail shaving residue. I'm convinced that he will be seeing a respiratory specialist sometime soon, who will be utterly stumped by his symptoms, having never witnessed nail file poisoning before outside of a Korean manicurist. Eventually, this leads to an academic paper and a heretofore previously undiscovered disesase now known as Goldberg's Keratin Syndrome or words to that effect.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Once the troll is done with its filing procedure, out comes the nail polish -- Hmmmmm, doesn't that smell delicious at 8:12 am. I'm tempted to say something, but I find myself without voice, utterly transfixed as I am at the sheer couthlessness of this bridge underdweller.

I notice her hands -- these crude objects, misshapen, rough hewn. At that instant, it dawns on me that she has the infamous "Man Hands." The hands of a man. It's like a creature out of Greek Mythology. She was part woman, part horrible beast.

Wait a second. Look at the legs. Holy shit, is this a post-operative tranny? Im not sure, since I cannot get a good look at his/her face. (Probably just as well).

I watch the polish go on . . . This must be a man . . . Would any Woman ever so unceremoniously slap THAT ugly a shade of dusty rose on their nails? Either shes a man or a complete idiot or both, 'though the fact that shes actually doing her nails on a commuter train certainly lends evidence to the middle selection at the least. Get Bravo ont he phone -- its time for "Queer Eye for the Gross Gal."

She finishes up, puts the polish away as we pull into Jamaica. Thankfully, she departs.

Okay, lets total up her score:

Nail File Woman

Update:  September 10, 2003

Now that this is here, if anyone ever comes across this heinous creature on a commuter line (or Bus or Airplane), you can say to them "Hey, I read all about you on the internet -- people who do their nails in public. They say you are a specially self involved breed of sociopath, sexually frustrated, overly dependent on sex toys which use batteries. Also, the web page said that it is unhealthy to breath in your filing dust. So please stop."

Posted at 10:41 PM in LIRR Commuter From Hell | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBack