Guest Blogger Has Some Strong Words For The Folks Who Make Your Muni Ride Miserable...
Once a proud beacon of chivalry, you used to say “sorry!” when you ran into people. Even further back in the murky woods of your etiquette, you probably tipped your hat to the street-side fiddler, the ruddy faced orphan who lived off your generosity. I don’t know when you became an asshole, fellow MUNI rider, but I would like you to stop. I’ve become an asshole, too, and even I think you’re an asshole.
I’ve been watching you. I’ve chewed packs of gum anxiously as I await your next inconsideration. I’ve written novellas of revenge fantasies. I’ve been squinty-eyed and befuddled as you’ve looked on: dumb and uncaring. These passive aggressive attempts of the weary have gone by unnoticed, and so I have always left sorrowed and you have always remained unperturbed.
But before I dismiss you as Genus: Assholerectus, I would like to give you one last chance. An opportunity to mend the holes in the fabric of our shared humanity. I’m here as a friend, as an ally. You useless cyborg of an asshole. I care about your recovery. You prickish virtuoso of the underworld.


