Tales from the Transit Line
Curse from the Evening Commute:
To the young, able-bodied man who snuck his way into the last seat on the train and then promptly stared at his phone, while a pregnant woman stood in front of him – may you trip upon disembarking, on your undone shoelace, sending your iPhone 6 Plus sailing into the air, landing squarely on the track, where it is then promptly run over by the next train – your iPhone, that is . . .
Tales from the Transit Line
Deep Thoughts from the Morning Commute:
Taxi drivers are like hair dressers.
You hire them to do a very specific job, but then they start asking you how you want them to do that job, and you’re all: ‘I don’t know man, you’re the expert, figure it out.’
Postscript: My driver’s bad breath mixed with his – yes his – perfume – yes perfume – is making me car sick.
#grouchy
Tales from the Transit Line
Report from the Morning Commute Special Edition:
Deep Thoughts with Kelle Shaunna
I love it when people yell and swear around the SkyTrain station during the morning commute.
It really makes me feel like I’m alive, you know.
Tales from the Transit Line 