Cutting me off at the Subway turnstile this morning were two MTA employees distributing envelopes to passers-by. "Rider Report Card??", they sang enthusiastically. Let us know what you think! Just fill it out and drop it in the mail!" I could not believe my ears. The MTA is actually requesting that we critique its service. The service that has me dreaming up new ways of taking my own life every morning. This to me is like asking prisoners of the Holocaust to fill out a Zagat Survey about the accommodations at their concentration camps. "The potato skins were fabulous!..But they gave me gas." (That's terrible.)
"Are you kidding me with this?", I asked the two henchmen. "No! Rider Report Card??", they repeated almost in unison and handed me one of my own. I smacked them both across the face with my gloves and took the damn thing. "Thank You. You'll be hearing from me", I warned. The exterior of the packet reads, TELL US WHAT YOU THINK ABOUT YOUR SUBWAY LINE. YOUR COMMENTS ARE IMPORTANT TO US. Inside is a list of topics like Train Cleanliness, Reasonable Wait Times for Trains, and Adequate Room On Board at Rush Hour (things which have absolutely nothing to do with NYC Transit), and instruction to place an "X" in the box that corresponds with the grade (A-F) we would like to give that subject. I will of course be participating in this evaluation, and letting them know exactly what I think of their service. I just hope the MTA is not planning on getting into college, 'cause I'm about to seriously fuck up its entire grade point average. My other concern is that the Business Reply envelope they've supplied will not be large enough to fit the severed horse's head I plan to include with my completed survey.
With today's rant, I would also like to issue a public appeal to the woman on my train this morning who continuously blew her nose all over me from Queensboro Plaza to Grand Central Station, and to the man sitting next to me at lunch yesterday who blew his nose all over my sandwich, exactly eleven times.
This is a major peeve of mine. I realize we are approaching the cold Winter/Holiday months, and 'tis the season for Post-Nasal Drip and coke addictions. But in my personal and correct opinion, nose-blowing of that magnitude is as intimate and vulgar a practice as (you'll pardon the expression) doody-making or (you'll pardon it again) masturbating, and should be performed in the privacy of your own home, or in a bathroom stall at work, or on YouTube. It has no place in a crowded train or communal dining area. You Ladies and Germs know who I'm talking to. I've gone ahead and written you up at the bottom of my Rider Report Card, requesting a conference with your parents. Please see me after class.