The Joy Of Trimet

Today's MAX ride is finding itself being sponsored by "XFINITY. Xfinity don't work downstairs, it don't work upstairs, it don't work outside. Xfinity don't work in the kitchen. XFINITY DON'T WORK IN MY HOUSE." Good to know.

AND A GUY JUST STARTED CHOKING (on some chicken nuggets) AND ANOTHER GUY THREW HIM IN A HEIMLICH AND SAVED HIM. !!!!!!

Yes, MAX, I understand that we need to sit here for a bit "due to switch issues," but is it really necessary for the doors to be open? I don't know if you've noticed, Driver-Man, but it's 90 thousand billion degrees out. I mean, the two lil buns my hair's in are only gonna look better the sweatier I get. However, I absolutely certainly will not smell better. And, at this point, I would really like to smell ok. Just ok. Please. Just ok. Not even good. The driver looks all of 15 so...maybe he doesn't sweat/stink?? Maybe his youth makes him impervious to heat? (however, I'm nearly 25 and people always ask what high school I go to..so I probably shouldn't be judging...)

The people behind me on the MAX are eating corndogs and, no one judge me - you know you love corndogs, I'm kind of really jealous. I hereby declare a corndog tax, continuing into perpetuity. For every corndog/other delicious food you choose to bring on the MAX, you must bring me one too. Seems reasonable.

Overheard: Mom - "you're being crazy!!" Young son - *continues running through the MAX* Mom - "HERE! Sit here, eat these Starbursts, and calm down." Um, yes. Starbursts are exactly the calming type of food I would have also chosen. Good luck with that, homes...

One guy is picking his skin with a sharp needle and another is putting eye-drops in his eyes, on the moving MAX. This should be a game on Survivor, or something, (is that show even a thing anymore?). If you can make it out, without mortally wounding yourself, YOU WIN! I would immediate fail. Coordination is probably not my strongest suite.

The wife-beater-wearing guy in front of me is swilling bourbon while daintily sipping a Taco Bell Icee, and the guy across from me is unashamedly staring a hole in my skull. And a sweet little old lady just sat down next to me and started talking to me about my Lego tshirt cuz her grandson "just loves those things." Way to be a buffer, Granny-Lady. Nailing it.