Tales from the Transit Line
Fashion Files from the Evening Commute:
XY
If you are a man and you come across a blazer with a belt that loops around the upper abdomen area, do not buy it. In fact, do not, under any circumstances, even try it on.
XX
Ladies, no matter what, never where black and white cowhide Uggs. In fact, just don’t ever wear Uggs.
Tales from the Transit Line
Report from the Morning Commute:
An enterprising young commuter on the Millennium Line, this morning, has proved that if one sits and twists a Rubik’s Cube in different directions for 18 minutes, without looking at it, absolutely nothing will happen.
In unrelated news, we would like to wish all of our loyal readers and critics, a very happy New Year!
Tales from the Transit Line
Report from the Evening Commute:
Santa was spotted on a SkyTrain in the Vancouver area tonight.
The Man in Red was incognito, apparently watching to see if commuters were being naughty or nice.
With just a few days before the big day, however, he appeared to be taking it easy, toting a plastic bag with a sixer in it, instead of his usual sack of toys.
Tales from the Transit Line
Report from the Morning Commute:
A woman’s animal instincts kicked in this morning, as she marked her territory in a Translink train car.
The woman splashed kisses and rubbed herself all over a pigeon-toed man wearing women’s jeans and a black leather jacket.
“It was all very unnecessary,” reported our on-scene correspondent, who now, incidentally, is seeking treatment for post-traumatic stress disorder.
Tales from the Transit Line
Report from the Morning Commute:
Breaking News!
It snowed and the Greater Vancouver Area is being evacuated via public transit.
Wait! We are receiving an emergency transmission from our correspondent on the line . . .
Oh . . . Correction, it’s just rush hour and there are only four cars per train . . .
Tales from the Transit Line
Report from the Evening Commute:
Although it has long been a recognized snack meat, a recent study reveals that one should never have a nibble (or a gobble) of garlic sausage before taking public transit.
Doing so has been found to be hazardous to the health of fellow commuters.
Tales from the Transit Line
Report from the Evening Commute:
This just in: The mystery of what those ‘weird’ noises were, coming from ‘her’ bathroom, has been solved.
“Oh, that was her fish tank wallpaper,” reported an anonymous source.
Tales from the Transit Line
Blessing from the Morning Commute:
May you never be on the front line of the transit platform after four full trains have passed by and the mass of impatient commuters that has since gathered behind you, starts to get pushy.
Nameste.
Tales from the Transit Line
Report from the Evening Commute:
Across MacDonald [Street?] and down an alleyway there’s a party tonight, according to some guy who still has to ‘go home, get changed, smoke a doobie, have a beer, and [other] sh*t like that.’
Tales from the Transit Line
Report from the Evening Commute:
Gone are the days of boom-boxes, here are the days of rocking as hard as your smart phone will allow.
“Everyone on the SkyTrain is so lucky,” noted an urban adolescent commuter this evening, after his cell died.
Seconds before making this proclamation, he was dancing and singing along to Matisyahu’s Sunshine, which he blasted from the device.
Lamenting the loss, he sang a few versus a capella, spit – intentionally – on his own shoe, and then remarked to his friend that he had read on Wikipedia that Matisyahu was Jewish.
“Ya, ‘Matisyahu’ is Hebrew,” said his friend.
“Matisyahu’s Hebrew?” the first young man responded.
Tales from the Transit Line 