Profile for Subway:
38, from New York City. Work for the transit authority. Anything else ya wanna know?
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38, from New York City. Work for the transit authority. Anything else ya wanna know?
Recent front page messages:
none
Best answers to questions:
» Professions I Hate
Telemarketers
True Story:
Somewhere about 1998, I was living in the Albany, NY area. Small metro area, a couple of small cities (Albany, Troy, Saratoga, Schenectady). Now each of these burgs has its own newspaper. In such an area, it is a fierce business, as each subscription means a lot than say, the New York Times.
(wavy lines)
One evening at approximately 8:30, I received a cold call from a telemarketer, from the Troy Record, asking if I would like to get the daily paper delivered for a low low price.
I was polite, No, I appreicate it, no thanks.
Most people would say thanks... and hang up.
Not this guy.
Well you know sir, The Record has the best sports section in the region...
Still Im not biting, I'm sure it does... Sorry not interested.
Well Sir, did you know that the Sunday Record has over $100 in coupon Savings?
Thats great, but still Im not interested..
Sir, did you know that the subcription to the Record can be yours for the low price of (some really ridiculous price).
Sorry I'm not interesteed.
Sir how Can i get you to subscribe?
I said you cant.
(Cue drumroll)
Why not?
Cause Im blind, and I cannot read the paper.
Dead silence, and I never had another telemarketer for a newspaper while I lived there again.
(For the record, Im not blind, but it was a lot of fun screwing with the telemarketer).
(Sat 29th May 2010, 3:16, More)
Telemarketers
True Story:
Somewhere about 1998, I was living in the Albany, NY area. Small metro area, a couple of small cities (Albany, Troy, Saratoga, Schenectady). Now each of these burgs has its own newspaper. In such an area, it is a fierce business, as each subscription means a lot than say, the New York Times.
(wavy lines)
One evening at approximately 8:30, I received a cold call from a telemarketer, from the Troy Record, asking if I would like to get the daily paper delivered for a low low price.
I was polite, No, I appreicate it, no thanks.
Most people would say thanks... and hang up.
Not this guy.
Well you know sir, The Record has the best sports section in the region...
Still Im not biting, I'm sure it does... Sorry not interested.
Well Sir, did you know that the Sunday Record has over $100 in coupon Savings?
Thats great, but still Im not interested..
Sir, did you know that the subcription to the Record can be yours for the low price of (some really ridiculous price).
Sorry I'm not interesteed.
Sir how Can i get you to subscribe?
I said you cant.
(Cue drumroll)
Why not?
Cause Im blind, and I cannot read the paper.
Dead silence, and I never had another telemarketer for a newspaper while I lived there again.
(For the record, Im not blind, but it was a lot of fun screwing with the telemarketer).
(Sat 29th May 2010, 3:16, More)
» Stalked
Weirdo on the Brighton Express...
Back in my junior year of high school (3 year of high school here in the States, meaning i was about 16/17) I had the uncomfortable dealing with some random older man who gave me the creeps. I didnt go to a city public school, I went to a private Jesuit prep school in manhattan. This was my choice, and it really is a great school.
Since I didnt live in Manhattan, I took the subway into school everyday (occassionally mom would have something in the city and she'd drop me off), this tale doesnt involve going to school, it involves coming home. Now typically i would done with class by about 2:45 everyday. Great. I would walk 2 blocks to Union Square and grab the Brighton Express from there home. Since it is early afternoon, the trains arent that crowded, and there is plenty of room for everyone to sit with plenty of space around them.
I get on and take a seat and this older guy, 40ish, shaved head, kinda looking like Private Pyle in Full Metal Jacket, gets on with me. Well instead of him taking a seat like everyone else, he stands in front of me. Just looking at me. This causes me to think, perhaps he wants to see the map behind me. so I slide down the bench seat and let him have full view of the map. No. He moves in front of me several moments later. I become slightly alarmed.
Seeing that this guy looks like he is about 3 cards short of a full deck, i decide to switch cars (carriages for all you UK types) and grab my bookbag, and shuffle through the door into the next car forward. No prob. I grab a seat and relax. Until 2 minutes later, he follows into the car and sits across from me. Staring. Now as a 16 year old kid, I am starting to freak out. As we are getting closer to my stop, and i am panicking. Well I decide to move again. And again, the creepo with the paedo smile follows. Now I am getting scared. Really scared. We are approaching my stop, and I just cannot get off and have this loon follow me. So I walk into the next car as the train is pulling into my station. I make like i am going to sit down, I duck out the door as they close behind me, just as the nutjob enters the car he sees me outside and stares at me like I was a ham sandwhich and he hadnt eaten in a month.
Not very pleasant and for the next few weeks I was taking several lines home just so I wouldnt have to risk seeing him again.
(Fri 1st Feb 2008, 4:34, More)
Weirdo on the Brighton Express...
Back in my junior year of high school (3 year of high school here in the States, meaning i was about 16/17) I had the uncomfortable dealing with some random older man who gave me the creeps. I didnt go to a city public school, I went to a private Jesuit prep school in manhattan. This was my choice, and it really is a great school.
Since I didnt live in Manhattan, I took the subway into school everyday (occassionally mom would have something in the city and she'd drop me off), this tale doesnt involve going to school, it involves coming home. Now typically i would done with class by about 2:45 everyday. Great. I would walk 2 blocks to Union Square and grab the Brighton Express from there home. Since it is early afternoon, the trains arent that crowded, and there is plenty of room for everyone to sit with plenty of space around them.
I get on and take a seat and this older guy, 40ish, shaved head, kinda looking like Private Pyle in Full Metal Jacket, gets on with me. Well instead of him taking a seat like everyone else, he stands in front of me. Just looking at me. This causes me to think, perhaps he wants to see the map behind me. so I slide down the bench seat and let him have full view of the map. No. He moves in front of me several moments later. I become slightly alarmed.
Seeing that this guy looks like he is about 3 cards short of a full deck, i decide to switch cars (carriages for all you UK types) and grab my bookbag, and shuffle through the door into the next car forward. No prob. I grab a seat and relax. Until 2 minutes later, he follows into the car and sits across from me. Staring. Now as a 16 year old kid, I am starting to freak out. As we are getting closer to my stop, and i am panicking. Well I decide to move again. And again, the creepo with the paedo smile follows. Now I am getting scared. Really scared. We are approaching my stop, and I just cannot get off and have this loon follow me. So I walk into the next car as the train is pulling into my station. I make like i am going to sit down, I duck out the door as they close behind me, just as the nutjob enters the car he sees me outside and stares at me like I was a ham sandwhich and he hadnt eaten in a month.
Not very pleasant and for the next few weeks I was taking several lines home just so I wouldnt have to risk seeing him again.
(Fri 1st Feb 2008, 4:34, More)
» Political Correctness Gone Mad
Another one from NYC
Dad working for the city had some great times.
Well how far did the PC crown go?
In the winter, it does snow in NYC, not a blizzard every time, but enough. Well when he first started, they had an expression -
when the streets had been plowed they were called "black and running" - meaning you can see the black asphalt and that the traffic was runnning as close to normal in such conditions.
Well at some point in the 1980s that term became a problem. So they then had to say clear and running. Or someother claptrap. Well when reporting in on radio - they dont know who is saying what - most people still used the older term, black and running, and the district Super (superintendent) would get on the radio and scream "Who said that?!!, you cant say that, cause we'll get Jessie Jackson or Al Sharpton on us"
To which he would get the reply - in a very lispy voice
Sorry - the streets are queer and running...
Sometimes its better to leave things alone, because there isnt an connotation about it.
(Fri 23rd Nov 2007, 16:29, More)
Another one from NYC
Dad working for the city had some great times.
Well how far did the PC crown go?
In the winter, it does snow in NYC, not a blizzard every time, but enough. Well when he first started, they had an expression -
when the streets had been plowed they were called "black and running" - meaning you can see the black asphalt and that the traffic was runnning as close to normal in such conditions.
Well at some point in the 1980s that term became a problem. So they then had to say clear and running. Or someother claptrap. Well when reporting in on radio - they dont know who is saying what - most people still used the older term, black and running, and the district Super (superintendent) would get on the radio and scream "Who said that?!!, you cant say that, cause we'll get Jessie Jackson or Al Sharpton on us"
To which he would get the reply - in a very lispy voice
Sorry - the streets are queer and running...
Sometimes its better to leave things alone, because there isnt an connotation about it.
(Fri 23rd Nov 2007, 16:29, More)
» Conned
On the train.
If you have ever had the joy of riding the NYC subway, you sometimes come across some of the most interesting individuals. Many spin a tale of woe, trying to get you to let loose some change. Normally I don’t, however sometimes it gets me so mad, I do cause a scene.
One rainy afternoon, heading home, a fine gent comes into the car and says - "I'm homeless, I have no place to go, I need to eat, I have a kid I have to support" same old tired story.
I look at him and for someone who was homeless, his pants were crisp from being pressed, his sneakers were $150 Nikes and he looked remarkably clean and neat.
Now the transit authority, has posters up, saying don’t give handouts no matter how real or believably real a story may or may not be. So I call him on it.
I say “For someone who is homeless and all you are doing well”.
“What?” he says
“well you are wearing brand new sneakers that go for about $150, and your clothes are clean and all. I don’t think you are homeless, I think you are being a bum.”
“No way man, not me”
Well says I, if you were that hard up, why would you spend $150 on a pair of shoes, and not buy something like food.
Now several other people, including a couple who had some money in their hands, also start looking. This guy stammers and says, um, like my friend gave them to me.
Right….
So the guy bolts off the next station
A woman who was sitting next to me says – you know I have never looked at the shoes. So every time someone asks for some change, I usually look at their shoes first and their general appearance.
(Fri 19th Oct 2007, 2:13, More)
On the train.
If you have ever had the joy of riding the NYC subway, you sometimes come across some of the most interesting individuals. Many spin a tale of woe, trying to get you to let loose some change. Normally I don’t, however sometimes it gets me so mad, I do cause a scene.
One rainy afternoon, heading home, a fine gent comes into the car and says - "I'm homeless, I have no place to go, I need to eat, I have a kid I have to support" same old tired story.
I look at him and for someone who was homeless, his pants were crisp from being pressed, his sneakers were $150 Nikes and he looked remarkably clean and neat.
Now the transit authority, has posters up, saying don’t give handouts no matter how real or believably real a story may or may not be. So I call him on it.
I say “For someone who is homeless and all you are doing well”.
“What?” he says
“well you are wearing brand new sneakers that go for about $150, and your clothes are clean and all. I don’t think you are homeless, I think you are being a bum.”
“No way man, not me”
Well says I, if you were that hard up, why would you spend $150 on a pair of shoes, and not buy something like food.
Now several other people, including a couple who had some money in their hands, also start looking. This guy stammers and says, um, like my friend gave them to me.
Right….
So the guy bolts off the next station
A woman who was sitting next to me says – you know I have never looked at the shoes. So every time someone asks for some change, I usually look at their shoes first and their general appearance.
(Fri 19th Oct 2007, 2:13, More)