Log in

No account? Create an account

Previous Entry | Next Entry

~Monday~  I finally opened a check today that I received in the mail last Thursday or Friday. I was surprised to find that it was my NC State tax refund. I had assumed it was another check that I get once a month, as its envelope resembled that one.

So, it took the state of North Carolina two months to pay me $64.05, and for the honor of using my money for two months, they paid me a grand total of a nickel in interest.

I caught the Wolfline #9 Greek Village bus at the intersection of Kaplan and Gorman streets, where I noticed this sign, which I'm pretty sure is new:

Sign indicating that the Wolfline #9 and the CAT #12 buses stop here

Okay, this sign is erected where the blue x is in the following diagram, which is also where the Wolfline #9 Greek Village bus stops. So, the fact that the sign indicates it's a Wolfline #9 stop is correct.

However, as you can also see in the following diagram, the CAT bus does not stop, or even pass by, this stop. That sign is wrong, wrong, wrong when it indicates that this stop is served by the CAT #12 bus. After stopping where the red x is on Kaplan, the CAT bus gets in a left turn lane that's at that Gorman intersection and turns left. You cannot get on the CAT bus from the stop at which that sign is erected. It simply doesn't stop there.

CAT and Wolfline bus routes diagram

Who you gonna call? Busbusters?

The ride into work was uneventful, and as we entered the gated service road that leads to the library stop, we passed Ann walking her bike along Hillsborough Street. I wanted to create a commotion by waving and yelling, but I resisted. No need embarrassing either one of us.

I submitted my weekly status update to my boss in a new format, one in which I've replicated the areas of my work plan, from which my interim and annual appraisals are done, and placed my accomplishments for the week in the respective areas. This will let me visually see how my weekly accomplishments are contributing to the various areas, and it will help streamline the interim and annual appraisal write-up for her.

I had a peaceful day of no work meetings.

When I walked out of the door of my building, I saw the bus way down Hillsborough Street, which meant I could get to the bus stop only if I ran. I wasn't yet there when it stopped, but the driver had evidently seen me running and she waited—which I appreciated—while I huffed and puffed up to the door. Between gasps, I thanked her profusely for waiting.

A man sat behind me with a woman he evidently works with, which I surmised from their conversation, which pretty much amounted to office gossip. As we approached the stop on Method Road, close to Western Boulevard, the conversation went like this as they indicated a man out on the sidewalk:

She: I don't like that man.

He: I know. He's a faggot.

She: He's just creepy.

He: He's usually with another guy, too. I hate that fag.

Seconds later at the stop, carrying his 12-pack of Milwaukee's Best Ice, and on his way up the aisle to get off at that stop, he said to the bus-at-large, "Y'all have a blessed evening now."

Presumably, this y'all meant everyone except for the fags. Lord, save me from your followers.

For dinner, I had the leftovers from my Kanki meal on Saturday. Most delicious.

I arrived at the Caribou Coffee at Olde Raleigh Village at about 7:30, and Joe arrived closer to 8:00. We had a lot to catch up on, going as far back as his trip to Pennsylvania for his sister's 40th birthday party in the middle of May.

In a rare occurrence, my mom called while I was there. She wanted to know if I'd found a sneaky way to get my aunt and uncle's anniversary date out of them, and I had to admit that I'd never called, but promised to follow-up on it for her.

She caught me up on hers and dad's latest aches, pains, and pills, but overall everything was copacetic.

She mentioned that in their hometown newspaper—to which I bought them a subscription at Christmastime—she saw a picture of a girl she went to high school with. "She was getting married," she said. "My god, she must be my age. And getting married."

I reminded her, "Well, old—straight—people are allowed to get married, you know."

Joe and I exited the place when they closed at 10:00, but stood out front talking for a few minutes more.

Back at home, I emailed the Manbites Dog Theater Board of Directors reminding them of our board meeting this weekend, called for agenda items, and asked them to confirm that they intend to attend.


( 2 comments — Leave a comment )
Jun. 7th, 2011 11:31 pm (UTC)
Oooh you should call CAT. I bet someone just put that sign up in the wrong place. Or call NCSU transportation and let them dig around. Or maybe they are changing a route and collapsing stops?

BTW, CAT is having an open house. You should go tell 'em what you want what you really really want. Thursday @ McKimmon. You are an expert after all. :-)

Deets here: http://www.raleighnc.gov/transit/

I had a recent buscapade myself. Last Wednesday, we had widespread power outages in the western part of the triangle, and since the power was out when I went to bed I set the alarm on my cell phone. The power did come on during the night, but went off again shortly after I got up--not even a full pot of coffee made!! Grr.

Anyways, using my cell phone as a timepiece, I got myself out the door and up to the bus stop. Power was out across town and cops were directing traffic at all the big intersections (the lesser ones everyone fended for themselves which is always interesting). I was at the bus stop only a few minutes when a CRX rolled up. Now, I did notice not many of my usual bus peeps were around although I figured the power outage had everyone's routine upside down.

I started to load my bike on the bus rack but the driver was waving me off. I went around to the door and he told me he was going out of service. So I asked him if he was going out of service where was the 8.00 bus because it was due and it was going to be late. He said he WAS the 8.00 bus. To which I, quite logically, asked, "Then why are you going out of service?" He looked at me like I had a rooster on my head and said, "Because it's . . . 9 . .. . "

I opened my cell phone, which said 7.57 and showed it to him. He showed me his (cell phone!! shame on you!) and it said 8.57. (The crazy thing is that my phone didn't reset to the proper time until I turned it off and turned it back on--usually it picks up a new tower and resets.)

I said I guess I was going to have to take the 'slow bus' (two buses with a transfer--takes ages) and the driver said, "That's OK, get on and I'll take you to the transfer center. You'll be able to catch the 105 from there at 9.30." So I got a private ride all the way to RTP, had a 2 minute transfer, and arrived only a few minutes late for a 10 meeting.

Awesome. Triangle Transit 1, Verizon 0.


(PS: Did you have to call me out for WALKING my bike? I guess I would have been going over to the credit union . . . )
Jun. 8th, 2011 03:32 am (UTC)
Re: Bus-busters
Ann, I can read the words you've written, but I can't resolve them. No matter how many times I read them, they come across as a positive public transportation customer service experience. What am I missing???
( 2 comments — Leave a comment )



Latest Month

February 2017

Page Summary


Powered by LiveJournal.com
Designed by Paulina Bozek