Thursday, April 13, 2006
LIRR Commuter from Hell: Rose Marie
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!
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
The Power of the Phone Cam: Hollaback NYC
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
Saturday, March 25, 2006
LIRR Commuter from Hell: Uh, Chris, we'd like to have a word with you . . .
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 . . .
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
LIRR Commuter from Hell: Furball
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.
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
LIRR Commuter from Hell: Inane Guy
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?
And on and on. Just loud enough to be background drone, for nearly a half hour . . . Bor-ing!
Monday, February 13, 2006
LIRR Commuter from Hell: F#$&in Camera Guy!
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 . . .
Friday, January 27, 2006
LIRR Commuter from Hell: The Baritone
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 . . .
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
Thursday, January 12, 2006
LIRR Commuter from Hell: OMIGOD, LIKE TOTALLY!
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).
Saturday, December 24, 2005
Paul: The Loud Talking LIRR Commuter from Hell
This is Paul.
Paul needs a ride home.
Paul tries calling Chris to give him a lift.
Chris won't answer Paul's call. Paul's brilliant solution: Talk even louder.
We admit it: We are jealous of Chris . . .