Seven Red

The big story in Chicago this week—apart from the fact that Illinois Democrats elected for Lieutenant Governor a pawnbroker who once held a knife to his girlfriend (who happened to be a masseuse/prostitute, and by “once,” I mean five years ago)—is the major service cut for the CTA. Buses, trains, everything will have fewer runs, and therefore more time between runs, and the whole machinery of public transportation will therefore be more crowded. A thousand CTA workers lost their jobs. This all went into effect yesterday. So I get on the train this morning at around 7:20, and see this. I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve seen a live paint tag on the inside of a running train, but I’d guess twenty years. It’s like that “Life After People” show, where everything collapses in 36 hours. Tuesday morning, the second day of the service cuts, and they’re running rush hour trains with effin’ paint tags on the inside doors? Is it gonna be a free-for-all?

MEALZ, Brown Line

Oh, and it appears that my obnoxious chuckling over southern snowstorms has come back at me, as we’ve doubled the season total in like the last six hours.

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