Thursday, September 30, 2010

Secret book

I took this picture last week and forgot about it until tonight.

I so badly want to know what this woman was reading and what was so scandulous about it that she wrapped, taped and covered the front and back covers with white paper.

Hi, I really enjoued our meetingth zzzzzz hapis thrysl

Tonight I busted my ass to catch the 5:20 only to miss it and had to resort to taking the 5:53.

I had really hoped the pics I took of the guy beside me sleep-emailing would turn out so I could show the hot mess of an email he was writing to a co-worker. He struggled to pound it out while dozing off.

He wrote: "Hi Christine, I really enjoued our meetingth zzzzzz hapis thrysl wth."

Every so often he'd regain consciousness and start typing again. His next line was "Liy hock meup frthhj tomrow."

By Pickering he was in a coma. I was tempted to reach over and press send on his Blackberry. But then I had visions of his career being ruined and of him packing up his office which lead to his kids holding a yard sale selling off their toys so the hydro bill could be paid, and I decided against it.

I poked him awake at Oshawa.

Whitby GO is a Hollywood starlet that needs fine tuning

I've got a follow up to the GO antics post from last week.

Sources tell me that Whitby's north parking lot is being shut down not to piss off the people who park there but because the pavement is tired and old.

Like Madonna, it needs work to stay young so a parking contractor has been hired to buff it out so it's pretty and smooth again. Apparently, only 2,400 people make use of the 4,000 spaces available in the parking garage so everyone should be okay in the following weeks.

I still think a sit-in should happen. Just for the corn cob guy alone.

I should have punted her backpack across the aisle

Yesterday, on the 5:10, there were 2 seats left on the coach I hopped on just before the train closed its doors. One lady took one and I took the remaining one.

The woman sitting across from me had her large, blue backpack in front of her feet giving me no room to put my feet in front of me. This left me to sit awkwardly with my legs spread wide, similar to a sitting birthing position.

It wasn't a ladylike position so I politely asked if she would move her backpack to under her seat. She told me it wouldn't fit. I said it probably would. She said perhaps I may want to sit somewhere else? Then she sucked her teeth and looked pointedly around her with a "Can you believe this b*tch?" expression on her face.

I didn't even hide that I was taking photos. Eventually, I brought my feet together and pushed them under her backpack. She didn't like that and gave me a dirty look. I buried my head into my book.

When she got off at Ajax, the woman beside me told me this woman actually had her backpack on the seat I was sitting on and that she had asked her to move it.

She apologized saying she probably put her in a bad mood before I got on.

This I don't understand. Why in the hell do people lose their marbles over someone asking them to be courteous? When did this become a problem?

Generally people are pretty good about moving items when asked. People who are not must be hardcore car commuters who can't believe they're on a commuter train because their car broke down where, god forbid, they have to share space.

Please wait on the tracks, your train will be here momentarily

Reader TomW emailed in expressing his concern about the contradictory warnings/notifications read out in the mornings on the LE.

Customer Service Ambassador Tom (God love him, with his voice that cracks like a 12 year old boy) likes to remind us all on the 7:53 out of Oshawa to "not cross tracks at platform level because high speed trains may pass at anytime, and it's dangerous and illegal" but he wants those looking to stop at stations between Pickering and Union to get off at Pickering and wait on Track #3 for a connecting train.

Kind of like that scene in the movie Stand By Me .... "Traaaaaaaaaiiiiinnnnnnnnnn!"

More than meets the eye

Ever had a time where you're staring at a person and you can't tell if you're staring at a man or woman?

I know this is wrong but I can't tell. The clothes say man but the face ...

By the way, you jokers on the 5:53 need to lay off the bananas. Gag.

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Ah-choo gross

Rita wrote in via text message to 9054420352 to tell those who sneeze that it's common courtesy to excuse yourself, especially if you manage to sneeze all over fellow passengers.

Apparently Rita found herself the target of a projectile cootie. It landed on her coat. The other person was oblivious. Rita is disgusted beyond belief and has been unable to eat all day.

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Please don't feed the rhinos

I'm looking to take the 5:20 today so I can avoid the wet rhino from yesterday.

I've outed myself to three people on that train. Jill (not her real name), Charlotte (not her real name) and Gary, who *wants* me to use his real name. He was so excited when he emailed me telling me he had "figured me out". Thing is, I don't know who Gary is so I don't know what to expect. Is he going to jump me? Tackle me? Buy me flowers?

Jill was equally clever.

This tells me I need to keep my mouth shut.

I expect you all to come sit with me.

No I don't.


Submitted by text message to 9054420352

Hi. I'm coming in from Richmond Hill. The woman next to me is carrying a turtle.

Me: Cool!? Can you get a photo?

I can try.

Me: If you can't, don't sweat it.

I've never used this feature on my phone. She has the turtle in a glad container with the lid off.

Me: Maybe she's a biologist

I think you're thinking of frogs.

Me: Er ... ?

Like in high school when we had to take frogs apart.

Me: I dunno about you but we never used frogs as Lego in my high school.

You're funny. I know what you're doing here.

Me: What?

Trying to make me look dumb

Me: Never. Can you manage a photo?

I can't get it to work

Me: Okay, no worries

I never seen anyone carry a turtle before

Me: Maybe it's a seeing-eye turtle? Does it have a leash?

Ha ha. No. That's too funny. She's probably a teacher or it's being given away.

Me: Or, she found it!


Monday, September 27, 2010


According to my site statistics, 47% of the 200 daily repeat readers - I know, shocking, it's not just my mom who reads this site - use a mobile device to access this website.

So I have to ask. Is it mobile-friendly enough? Do photos load? Any issues I need to know?

SIGHmon says

via email to

First of all, I really like this website!!

Why thank you. I'm here everyday!

I am on the Lakeshore W. train every day, and we need more posts from there haha.

The floor is yours, Sighmon.

This is to those people who refuse to let anyone "in" when trying to get out of your seats and into the aisle to get off the train.

Ah yes, the dirty lineblockers!

The people who purposely pretend that no one else exists and makes every attempt to block anyone from getting in... seriously.. that 1.3 seconds it would take to let someone in, would probably do a lot for your Karma.

Word, bro.

Keep your wetness to yourself

I caught the 5:10 tonight.
I sat on an outside seat which meant I'd have to swing my legs to let window lovers in.

One window lover in particular dragged her sopping wet umbrella across my lap. I was wearing brown pants. I now looked like I had pissed myself. Then, she struggled to pull off her enormous coat and clocked me in the head with her elbow. So I spoke up and asked her if she would like to sit on the outside seat. She declined.

It took her almost 10 minutes to get settled. Then her friend showed up. This friend had a bad and serious case of stale cigarette breath. The kind of breath you would imagine one would get if they licked an ashtray clean. A huge discussion about autism ensued. Waft after waft of cigarette wind enveloped me like Aretha Franklin at a buffet table. I resorted to breathing into my jacket collar.

The rhino next to me was also using my side girth as her personal arm rest which annoyed me to no end. Oshawa couldn't come fast enough.

After Whitby, I was able to move and sit away from them. The guy who sitting in the opposite window seat, I had noticed, had cranked up his music and I could make out every lyric to the song he was listening to. I'm sure the mind-numbing autism conversation was more than he could handle.

Then, as we're exiting the train at Oshawa, rhino says loudly for everyone to hear, "Loud enough for ya?" And smirks, pleased with herself.

Cue my opportunity for a dig.

"Sometimes people jack up their music", I say, "so they don't have to listen to people like you."

And then I sprinted off the train. Because I read somewhere that rhinos, although they look harmless, can kill.

You're a piece of poo

Submitted by text message to 9054420352

Today I rode in from Richmond Hill on a later train. This woman had her son with her who kept running back and forth down the aisle telling passengers they were "pieces of poo".
Eventually he came up to me and called me a "piece of poo". So I looked at him and said, "No, you're a piece of poo." Suddenly his mother, who has so far been oblivious to her son's existence, screams at me, "Don't you DARE talk to my son like that!!!"

The kid stuck his tongue out at me. I then had a fantasy of hanging him outside the doors of the train as we sped along, but like you've said, I didn't, because I don't like jail.

Symphony of crickets

I wish!

This morning I was surrounded by three snoring people. One of them was a train buddy.


Friday, September 24, 2010

Go antics!

No, that's not a cheer for some obscure football team.

There's crap going down at Whitby GO station and if you're one of the poor sods who already has to schlep their ass to the back of the train each night so you can at least get off "due to platform construction and the following four coach's whose doors won't open", you're going to love this piece of news.

GO is shutting down the north-end parking lot. I don't know why they are. I've had two texts this morning telling me this was the news swirling around the platform.

I realize they built the fancy parking garage complete with LED sign that tells you how many cars are parked on each level (I have a friend that uses those numbers as her Pick3 lotto numbers), so I suppose it's felt the north lot isn't necessary or maybe it's related to the construction.

I feel your pain, Whitby folks. It's gonna get ugly.

I suggest a sit-in, complete with signs, guitars, incense, a dude in a corn cob costume and aging hippies. A good chant of "Hell no, we won't go" should suffice.

Thursday, September 23, 2010

Steve's bag rider

Submitted by email to

The story behind this guy on the Barrie train (which is ALWAYS packed) is that I told him while we were waiting at Union to leave that he should get his bag off the seat as the train fills up fast and gets crowded. Get this, he told me he was saving the seat for his friend. He told this to at least 7 people and even one woman told him off because after we started moving, she asked him to move his backpack because his friend wasn't on the train. He ignored her and turned his music up.

So we made fun of him and his "imaginary" friend the whole train ride. What a douche.

I'd never seen this guy before so he's obviously a daytripper. I was tempted to move his bag for him.

Hello? Housekeeping!

This lady got upset at me that I hadn't "groomed" the train for her prior to her boarding at Scarborough. There was a Renter's Classified on the seat next to me. It wasn't mine but I was scoffed at. Hairy eyeballed, even!

I didn't realize that was my job. I moved it for her but she got all pissy and went and sat somewhere else.

Italian Stallion

Submitted by email to

Last night I got to ride home with a woman who chomped down on italian sausage from a tupperware container. It stank so bad. When she got off at Clarkson, the lady beside me had a small perfume spritzer and she squirted it a few times. Next thing you know, it smelled like a cow had farted vanilla cookies while being roasted on a spit. I was gagging and had to leave the coach. Pretty soon, it was a mass exodus. Even Moses himself could not have parted the crowd that fast.

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Sleepin' Hardcore

Submitted by Sandra K. (via picture message to 9054420352)

I boarded the 7am train to Union from Oshawa this morning at about 5 minutes to departure.

This woman was already asleep.

Please, make yourself comfortable!

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

It's a shower! In a stick!

Just watched a guy standing near the doors of the first coach on the 5:10 pull out a stick of deodorant, unbutton his shirt and failed (because I saw him) to put it on discreetly.

Crazy lady!

As devoted followers know, in the summer I decided to share my cell number online so people could text me stories and pictures (9054420352).

Apparently this is pretty far out for some people to comprehend, as we learned with the sext message I received last month. If you haven't read that gem yet, you can read it here.

The following came in this morning:

Random Text Messager (RTM): what's up?

Me: hi

RTM: is this the crazy lady?

Me: do u mean the person with the crazy train blog?

RTM: sure

Me: sure? sure what? sure you have a crazy train blog?

RTM: no. u do.

Me: i do?

RTM: don't u?

Me: i might

RTM: this is the person who rides the go train right?

Me: i indeed do ride a go train

RTM: so u own that blog?

Me: what blog?

RTM: the crazy one!

Me: oh, that one. u mean the one you got this cell # from

RTM: are u always like this?

Me: like what?

RTM: rude?

Me: well u did refer to me as a crazy lady

RTM: no i didn't

Me: yep. you did.

RTM: no. i did not call u crazy. i called ur blog crazy

Me: well someone's crazy and it ain't me

RTM: r u calling me crazy???

Me: r u?

RTM: ur crazy

Me: choo choo!

RTM: what's that mean?

Me: what?

RTM: choo choo

Me: that u ride a crazy train

RTM: u suck

Me: dude, you texted me. did u think it was a fake cell # on the site?

RTM: u never know so i thought i would try it

Me: u know i'm putting this on the site, right?

RTM never wrote me back. I'm telling you. This blog writes itself.

Monday, September 20, 2010


Anna on the Richmond Hill line would like to address the blonde lady with the yellow trench coat and the white blonde hair.

Please stop splitting your split ends every morning on the train ride into Union. Please visit an amazing facility known as a "hair salon" where a person called a "hair dresser" can take care of those for you.

Thank you.

Sweatin' to the old... ladies


You know that band "KISS" from the 70s? The one with Richard Simmons?
See, I had to interrupt **THAT conversation**. On the train ride home. Tonight.

I think you mean "Gene Simmons," I said to the two elderly ladies.

Tittering nervous laughter ensued.

Oh my gawd, they thought I WAS WRONG. Dear God! Can you imagine what KISS would have been like if they were right?!

Go bus love

I realize some of you take the Go bus as well as the Go train which means your duration of crazy extends a train ride.

I got an email from Dora (hola!) who says she was pretty confident that the bus ride from Yorkdale this morning was a "Love Bus". Apparently two teens were hot and heavy in the rear.

Get it? No!? That bad, huh? Well, Dora didn't elaborate and that's what she wrote "hot and heavy in the rear".

It could *mean* anything!

Friday fail

I know.
I didn't post anything on Friday.


Because no one did anything crazy. No one brought the crazy. No one dialed up the crazy.

No one.

Send me your stories!!! or text, send pics to 9054420352

Thursday, September 16, 2010

Shout Out Request

Got this email tonight:

From: Name Withheld
Date: Thu, Sep 16, 2010 at 5:36 PM

A shout out to the customer service ambassador of GO transit( Georgetown line) before the train times were changed.. Your name is Shean/Shawn/Sean and you usually were on the 9 20 train to union( YOU WOULD USUALLY BUY A CUP OF COFFFE FOR UR FELLOW MATE AT BRAMLEA go station).. I never had the guts to come up and talk to you, I miss smiling our exchange of smiles.. are you still working in the GO? Haven t seen you in a while.. - Curious ;)

Why I christened the 5:10 Lakeshore East the 'Crazy Train'

1. The woman next to me lost her shit on a few of us trying to convince a confused woman this train was 100% going to Oshawa. She was on her cell. She raised her voice and said to us, 'Do you mind? I'm on the phone!' This other dude asked, 'Do you want a medal?'

2. A rather large man tried to convince those sitting in the courtesy seats that his, and I quote, 'fat', made him a priority. Nobody moved.

It's true! Stephen Harper eats babies

Well, the fact that this is a true event in regards to a hacked LED advertisement on GO Transit.

See telephone post.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Bad boys

Marion writes: "Georgetown 5:45 train. We ride together, we die together: Bad boys for life. These two (can't really see the second but I promise he was there) had their feet and bags up on the seat."
Can you see the person standing?

Rude! Rude! RUDE.

We're sorry ... the number you've dialed is not in service

Place a call with what?

And check out those long distance charges!

Submitted via picture messsage to 9054420352

Crazy train reader Dan was kind enough to provide some background behind this picture:

Commuter trains will get telephones; [SA2 Edition]
Toronto Star. Toronto, Ont.: Sep 15, 1990. pg. A.4

Copyright 1990 Toronto Star, All Rights Reserved.

Riders will no longer be able to use a late GO Train as an excuse for not calling in.

Next month riders will be able to pick up a cellular phone on board the train.

"You've got to admit, there are delays every now and then," said GO Transit's Tom Henry.

All passengers need is a credit card. But the $1.50-a-minute charge is quite a bit more than the quarter used at a regular pay phone.

The service is being implemented to generate revenue for GO Transit and also to provide commuters with a much-needed service in the high-tech age, Henry said.

Twenty-five phones are to be installed in the six-month pilot project, which begins Oct. 15. If the system proves popular, there will eventually be a cellular phone in every car, Henry said.

Rogers Cantel Inc., which the GO Transit board decided yesterday will get the contract to provide the service, will share some of the profits.

The phones will initially be available on the east-west Lakeshore line all day and on the Richmond Hill line during rush hour, said Joe Zinner, assistant vice-president for national sales at Rogers Cantel Inc.

"It's going to be unique in North America on a commuter service."

Sleepin' hardcore

And being a dirty foot rider, too!

Submitted by Silent J on the LW, at 8:30 am

Golf anyone?

Angela sent a text message in to me (9054420352) about a woman who decided to transport a set of golf clubs on the LW 5:13 train last night.

Her golf clubs rode in a seat.

It was aisles deep of people (many standing) glaring at her and she was completely oblivious.

I would have sat on them. But that's just me.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Transit affair

I'm encouraged on a daily basis to read TO Night for the Shout Outs, but I don't.

I don't want to taint what I do here nor do I want to be accused of stealing an idea. (Already got an email to that regard).

According to a few train buddies, there are several people who carry on GO train affairs. I did overhear two people once tell another rider that they were each other's train spouses.

I once saw a woman kiss a man who I know wasn't her husband because he was at the station waiting in a car to pick her up.

But what's so threatening about someone being attracted to someone they see each day? Like me and Chapstick Man. I look for him everyday. It doesn't mean I plan on doing anything about it. Yet, when discussing this with another rider, she got so worked up over what I think is pretty innocent. How am I cheating on my husband because I enjoy watching another man slather on chapstick?

By the way, I received an email today from a woman whose email address was "". I just hope you don't send resumes from that address.

I bet Jill is now wondering who the hell Chapstick man is.

Akward moment

Someone I see on the train almost each morning nearly slammed into the back of my SUV as we exited the GO lot tonight.

See, stop signs mean stop. That's what I do. I stop. Just because it's clear both ways on Bloor doesn't mean I'll roll through the stop sign. That's not how I ... er, roll. I guess she figured I would be following the driver in front of me who drove through.


When she caught up with me at a light, she glared at me, gave me the finger (for reals!) only to then recognize me. She couldn't drive away fast enough.

But here's the thing, she will see me again.

Tomorrow's train ride with be (high pitched voice) awkwaaarrrd.
I'm telling you, and I've said it before, I'm a magnet for this stuff.

Move your goddamn bags

Your knapsack does not have priority seating.

Honest to God. Why should I have to ask? You should do it automatically.

That's why I said to you as I left in a huff, "Glad to see the bag got a seat".

To my train buddies, I'm sorry I couldn't sit with you this morning.

I can't believe how dense people are.

Monday, September 13, 2010

Amazing what this Hooter girl can do!

Did anyone else notice this Hooter ad in today's 24 Hours? The free commuter newspaper almost everyone reads so we can avoid eye contact with each other?

What a bad attempt at Photoshop. This poor girl has had her hand amputated and her wrist drawn back on awkwardly. The plates of wings appear to have replaced her hand entirely. Even the plate of wings have been badly edited and then duplicated to create the towering pile.

Those platters would be heavy. I bet she draws the strength from her chest.
Tuesday, September 14
So this morning, Mike, one of This Crazy Train's readers, sent over how he felt this ad should have been photoshopped.


This train smells like potatoes.

You know that smell they make when you drain the water after boiling them?

That smell.

Dancing with myself

You know those people who bounce-walk like they've got Stayin' Alive stuck on continuous loop in their heads?

Guess who's sitting beside me?
Guess what's playing on his iPod?
Guess what's stuck in my head?

Text fodder

I received a text that read, No.

No what?
No because that's all you could manage to type before your fingers gave out, or no you don't like tomatoes?

Friday, September 10, 2010


Oh hells no.

You can take this go-go gong show and find a way to get this train to Oshawa.

Whitby? Take us back to Whitby?!

These people have lost their damn minds. You can't subject passengers to that!

If you were on the 5:20 Friday night, ask yourself, was the 30 minute wait to get into a track at Oshawa due to a disabled train better than having to track back to Whitby and figure out how to get to Oshawa? On your own?

You bet your ass the wait was worth it.

No way, man.

How is that possible?

People who sleep standing up fascinate me.

How do you do that?

Thursday, September 9, 2010


Lady falls alseep on train.

Train arrives in Oshawa.

Coach is empty except for said lady.

Train is now out of service.

Man gets on train and tries to wake lady.

Lady remains in a coma.

Doors are closing.

Man barely escapes.

What happens to Sleeping Beauty?

Hey, guess what's even more annoying about one-sided cellphone conversations?

When the person is speaking in a language you don't understand.

I gave up trying to read my book altogether this morning because the frenzied phone call this woman was having kept interrupting my concentration.

She was also pissing off the people around her trying to sleep.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Spit and polish

What you were doing is not what that means.

You don't scrape the nail polish off your nails with your teeth and then spit the residue out of your mouth. Onto the floor. On a public train.

I'll make you clean it.

Watch me.

Submitted by Karen L. via text message
Barrie line.
Text your rants to 9054420352

Dear teeth suckers

Invest in dental floss.

There's nothing more gross than listening to someone trying to inhale the remnants of lunch from the spaces in between their teeth.

Thanks, you're *awesome*

I got called a cow this evening.

Apparently I failed to realize it's my job to hold the doors open at Union Station for people three metres behind me when I'm hauling ass to catch a train.

I'm serious. I was halfway up the stairs when this woman stormed past me and said, "Thanks for holding the door open for me, you cow."

She didn't even stick around for me to answer. There was no one else on the stairs at that point except for me and she leaned right into me to say it as she passed me.

I was too stunned to reply. I never saw her and I most certainly will hold a door open for someone who I know is immediately behind me.

I'm a magnet for this stuff. I swear.

It ain't winter

Yes, it was slightly cool this morning.

But a winter jacket, scarf and gloves?

Girl, you crazy.

I dare you to wear all that on the train home tonight.

When it's 30C.

I have to park here, NOW!

I like to park at the far end of the Oshawa Go lot. This morning, I parked at the end of an empty row.

There were several empty spots in this row. As I was digging around in my backseat, this woman pulled up and sat and idled, waiting for me.

She was waiting for me to close my door so she could park right next to me. Not in the empty spot in the row ahead. Not in the empty spot next to the empty spot next to me. Right in the spot next to me.

I didn't have my door open all the way. I was trying to find my book which had slid under the seats.

As I rummaged around, this woman tooted her horn. At me. Tooted. With metres of spots available. I stood straight up and looked at her.

What the hell?

I slammed my car door and stood there. She crept forward and parked her minivan. I kept giving her my best 'WTF?' look.

It was 7:32. The train comes at 7:53.

Get bent.

Friday, September 3, 2010

I did it for you, Jill!

My cover was blown on the train this morning.

Of course, now I am aghast that perhaps I am one of those people who project too much when talking to others on the train.


Oh, I didn't tell you? I now have two daily train buddies who I sit with in the morning. They didn't know about my failed attempt to ask a group of people to shut the hell up a month ago. The guy who fought back at me was on my coach this morning and sitting only a few rows away. Whenever I see him, I always get this flash of anger that I can't seem to let go. I won't lie. He really got to me.

Anyhooo, I was telling my two train buddies about the confrontation and maybe I'm oblivious to the workings of the internet, thinking very few people read this blog, when, as the train pulled into Union, I heard this female voice call out, "I love your blog".


I thought maybe I misheard so I kept moving towards the doors. Then, this lady behind me asks quietly, "Are you CJ?"

I played it cool. I whispered back, "How do you know?"

Oh yeah, real cool.

I don't know why I felt I needed to keep it a secret just then. I'm not embarrassed by anything I've written. I was just caught off guard.

Jill overheard my conversation about the confrontation and since she does read this blog, she put one and one together and next thing I knew, I'm hoofing it up Bay Street with her (she's a fast walker, I'm not).

I hardly ever walk outside during heat waves. I usually walk underground to avoid the smog, heat, smokers and pollution because of my asthma.

This woman barely broke a sweat. Mind you, she's in much better shape than me.

Nice to meet you, Jill.

The rest of us don't care what he said to you

How many times have you thought that while listening to a one-sided cellphone conversation on the train?

I'm averaging about 400.

Reader RonNasty, in response to my Chinese take out order gong show post from last night, posted a link about a brilliant mass-marketed response to those who just can't understand why the world really isn't interested in hearing about what kind of chow mein they prefer.

It's called the SHHH project. This highly creative campaign to shut people up is available in a downloadable PDF that you print and then hand out to people currently engaged in a highly obnoxious and loud cellphone conversation.

That is, if you have the nerve to hand it out.

Thursday, September 2, 2010

Chow mien and then none

Good christ. In a handbasket.

Everyone in the first floor of my coach on the 8:13 tonight was subjected to a cellphone conversation courtesy of a woman who took it upon herself to phone in a Chinese food take-out order during the ride home.

All kinds of stupidity ensued. The most awesome part of her phone call was when she lost her signal three times and three times had to call the restaurant back (including the times she left them hanging to consult with her boyfriend).

She spent 10 minutes discussing chow mein and then told the person she'd call them back. After having a 7 minute discussion with her boyfriend about whether the chow mien should have chicken or shrimp, it's eventually decided it will be plain chow mien which leads to the woman calling back the Chinese food place and continuing her order.

Then she got frustrated over her third dish. She couldn't figure out what to have for a third dish so she grilled the person taking her order about their popular dishes. This resulted in the first dropped signal. Many of us blew out a collective sigh of relief because I am certain I wasn't the only one who wanted to toss her ass off at Scarborough.

Her signal eventually returns only for her to lose the connection with the restaurant two more times as the train moves through the Rouge Valley.

I was pretty close to losing my cool. It's not so much that she was trying to order dinner, it was how f*cking dramatic she was being and how loud she was talking.

Finally after learning about the restaurant's top three dishes, she again tells the person taking her order she'll call back and she rings up the boyfriend to ask him which of the three dishes he prefers.

The whole train learns that he doesn't fancy any of the suggestions which then escalates into a fight between the two of them.

We're in Pickering by the time she hangs up on him and calls the restaurant back.

Once on the line, she tells them to cancel her order because her boyfriend doesn't want to eat what she wants to eat.

She got off at Ajax.

The guy across from me cheered. I swear. He looked around, caught my eye and said, "Yayyy!"

This led to a discussion between myself and him and five others about what a donkey this woman was.

Wednesday, September 1, 2010


Submitted by text message (9054420352)

Please, will the man with the 70s style headphones stop eating tuna fish sandwiches for breakfast on the 8:25 train from Oshawa to Union? It stinks. Try Pop Tarts. Or try tomato and mayonnaise. Muffins work well.


This is what I got to stare at during the ride home on the 5:20 tonight.
That's not a purse. It's not even a bag. It's a suitcase and while others had their belongings on their laps, this blonde cornhole had to be special. Even at Scarborough when a bunch of people came on, she put her head back like she was sleeping.

- Ruth D.

Dirty donkeys

Get your dirty rank flip flops off the seat, you donkeys.

Train love

There was a teen couple on the train this morning who got on at Oshawa.
The two of them held hands and gazed adoringly into each other eyes.
By Pickering, they were locked at the lips and proceeded to 'make out' all the way to Union. There wasn't any french kissing just a lot of smooching, hair smoothing, arm petting, face touching and the burying of heads into shoulders.
They were oblivious to the stares and what I found hilarious was the woman sitting across from them kept sighing loudly and rolling her eyes.

How sad people forget.

I found the whole episode highly entertaining. Ah, teen love. Le sigh.