You Don't Get To Celebrate, Muni

In the barrage of significant milestones that have taken place in 2012, you may not have noticed that 2012 was the 100 year anniversary of Muni. I wouldn't have noticed it myself, aside from the fact that Muni told me. To celebrate the 100th anniversary of Muni, the transit system decided to let its passengers ride for free on Friday. That was wonderful, except I'd already paid for a monthly FastPass and Muni's little anniversary gift saved me ... no money whatsoever. But I wouldn't be writing my bitter little blog post just to rain on Muni's self-generated parade. No, my friends, I'm writing this bitter little blog post because, seconds after the driver of my rail line on Friday morning announced that it was Muni's 100th anniversary and that everyone would be riding for free, the train crawled to a halt, and she added, "There's a delay at Church and Duboce, we don't know what the problem is, I don't know how long we'll be here, if you need to get downtown I suggest taking the 43 or the 44 bus."

So let me get this straight: on the day that Muni is celebrating its 100th anniversary, Muni makes me late for work? You know what, Muni? You don't get to celebrate. I mean, OK, you don't have to apologize, or feel sorry for existing for 100 years, or anything like that. But you don't get to be proud. You don't get to boast. You still don't work very well. The day you run like an exemplary transit organization, maybe then you can do a little celebrating. But not yet.

On a similar, more uplifting note: while waiting in line on Friday at the salad buffet place where I often grab lunch, I noticed a sign on the wall that read, "Beat The Scale! Your Salad Is Free If It Weights 1lb." Now, I read that sign and I thought, "First of all, who the hell is going to bother to put just enough food on their plate so that it weighs exactly 1lb.? Is that what this country's come to?" Then I thought, "I couldn't even guess how much a lb. of food is. I have a rough sense of how much 10lbs. is, or maybe even 20lbs., but just a lb.? Forget it." Then I thought, "And even if someone does manage to make their plate weight exactly 1lb., why would the cashier even point that out? It would have to be some crazy old lady who obsessively casts her eagle eye on the scale, waiting for that moment when she can claim, 'Aha! I beat you, scale!'"

I should also mention that this salad bar place has a little card with eight circles on it that they hand out, and every time you eat there, they put a sticker on the card, and when you fill up the card, you get to eat one meal for free. So I walked in there Friday with a card all filled up.

I approached the register and the cashier said, "Since your salad weighs 1lb., you get to eat for free today."

Get out of here.

I said to the cashier, "But I wasn't even trying to do it." He said, "That's OK, it's free." Then I said, "But your not supposed to tell me!" There was no use arguing. I kept my filled-up card for another day, and ate my free meal.

So there you go, Muni. You were bailed out by the salad buffet place.

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