The American public – you know, the one that is currently going through the state by state process of picking the nominees to be the next President (you know, because the Metro marketer guy probably won’t run) – has become so overwhelmed by the world in which they live that fare card machines have become a source of great befuddlement. Yesterday, I had to stop at one at Union Station to refill my SmartTrip card. I usually do this with Metrochecks (if I have one handy). There are two machines on the one side, and there was one person using each, with one person each behind them. Fine, it’s not like I’m in a hurry to get to work. At about the same time, both folks finish their transactions and move along. That leaves a person at the head of the line for each machine, with me waiting for the one on the left. The woman who was using the one on the right may very well still be there – I forgot to look this morning when I walked past them. She was trying to figure out how she could add change to her card. I think she was trying to add a quarter. Now, I’ve seen people do this before and hey, whatever, if you need a quarter to get to the next stop, you do what you gotta do. Yeah, no … this woman had $121.35 on her SmartTrip card.
And she was trying to add a quarter.
$121.35.
Quarter.
These are the people that the Metro workers should eject from the station. What could you possibly do on Metro that would cost that much, where $121.35 wouldn’t cover it, but $121.60 would? The average Metro fare is what, $3? What good will the extra quarter do? And why does this need to be done in the morning when about 31,000 other people are in the station trying to get on with their day?
Then there was the woman at the machine in front of me. She seemed like she knew what was going on, and she was even pretty. Yeah – didn’t help. Upon putting her money in and doing everything it seemed she needed to do, there then started a long bout of staring at the machine. I thought maybe she was praying (because it doesn’t hurt to do that when you’re about to board public transportation these days). But no, she had either missed her train of thought or her motor stalled. I peaked somewhat over her shoulder and realized that she didn’t know how to get her card that she paid for. So I reached over and hit Button C, which is what you have to hit to get your card. Maybe I should have just said something, and maybe pushing the button for her was embarrassing, I don’t know, but I was kind of afraid she was going to be stuck there for hours and maybe she might die. So in a way, I saved a life. She laughed and was very appreciative. That’s nice. Good deed for the day.
Because it’s more fun, I’m going to blame this whole incident on the fare card machine itself, in retrospect.
MDR
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2 comments:
I agree. FareCard Machines are de debbil. They have strange, hypnotic powers. They warp space and time.
I mean, really! Have you ever tried to add just a quarter?
I love standing behind someone who is trying to figure out the maximum amount they can put on their smart card. I think they save up their metrochecks for months at a time and then take them to the machine at the least convenient time (usually the morning rush). They stand there with 25 metrochecks and proceed to load them on their smart card (which by the by has $250 on it already). So I'm standing there looking to put enough on my card to get back to the positive side (you know because my last trip, I went negative with my smart card) and get to work. And there is this person loading up about $500 worth of metrochecks! Perhaps there should be some etiquette training for both passengers (sorry customers) and staff...
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