I’m starting a series about San Francisco’s most lovable weirdos. This is the first installment.
About four years ago, I was waiting in the Daly City BART station (don’t ask) to head back home. That was the first time I saw the woman whom I affectionately call the screaming BART station lady. She was a petite 70ish white woman with glasses. She was screaming at the top of her lungs and swearing at the electronic sign:
Where’s the GOD. DAMN. 73?!?!
Another hour?!?! SHIT!!!
Goddammit!! I’m not going to get home for another HOUR! SHIT!
These expletives came out every 10 seconds or so. I was laughing so hard that my sides hurt, tears were streaming down my face, and I could barely breathe.
Any Bay Area resident can tell you that there is no bus number 73 that runs through the BART tunnels.
I couldn’t bear to tell her she was in the wrong place. I literally would’ve pissed my pants witnessing her reaction.
Fast forward four years. I’m in the Montgomery station tonight, around 7. Suddenly, I hear:
Ugggghhh!!! Another HOUR AND 45 MINUTES?!!?! AaaarrrrggghHHHHHH!!!!!
People around me in line looked worried, concerned. I started laughing.
I’m not going to get home for another hour and a HALF!!! AAARRRRGGGHHHH!!!!!
Where the hell was my digital camera when I needed it?