the love/hate affair with mass transit... or, a blog with too many details :)

my daily opinion of chicago is often influenced by my experience on mass transit. i must've been getting arrogant/settled because friday dished up another difficult encounter.

the culprit: the metra

the setting: around 7pm, dark, irving park stop.

the story: leah, carrying two cumbersome bags (why do i do this to myself?), gets off the X80 bus and crosses many busy streets to get to the metra stairs that were only a few yards away from the bus stop. i walk down the street and notice that there isn't anyone around but this older man across the street. since this street is unfamiliar with me and i feel rather defenseless carrying two large bags and being a girl, fear starts to make my heart speed up. i'm not sure which ramp i'm supposed to go up, but i can't pull out my iphone to find out because there have been many stories of people getting their iphone swiped right from their hands.

i go up the ramp to the platform and look around, confused.

i decide i'm on the wrong side and a train coming for the other platform is coming in a few minutes. i dash down the ramp, around some sidewalks, up another ramp onto the other platform.

the train comes on the opposite side, the one i'm just on.

i try to ask someone a question, they look at my out of the side of their eyes and shuffle away from me (maybe i had a crazed look?). i finally ask someone (who lacks people skills and looks at me fearfully) and they tell me i should be on the other platform where the train just arrived and departed from.

i run back down the ramp, back across the sidewalks, past the scary man who is STILL standing there. up the other ramp. plop down on a frigid bench and risk checking the iphone.

the next train comes in two hours.

i'm sweaty, freezing, my shoulders are tired and i'm afraid of everything. i tearfully call my friend who i'm trying to visit and she says she'll come and get me.

i go back down the ramp to try and find somewhere warm to stop. thankfully i found a golden nugget pancake house (think village inn) and plopped in there.

ordered onion rings.

twenty minutes later, realized i could've taken the blue line which was only a few yards away. call my friend and she's only ten minutes away, but traffic is thick.

i feel stupid. but i eat my rings and my friend comes.

later that night, we eat mexican and order 49 tostadas for $7.75 (what a deal!!):



:) no, not really, it was order #49.

and i felt dumb for crying and feeling scared. and humbled that i still have MUCH to learn about chicago and that i'm far from conquering the city (yes, there are some moments i'm arrogant enough to think that... LOL).

the end.