Bad Start, Good Finish

This was the first week of 9:30 services (moved up from the usual 10:30 time) at church. It's also the first day of the month that I have had to go anywhere on the MBTA. And, I forgot to pick up my T-pass at work last week, so already I'm off to a bad start.

Now, I've been a supporter of the new Charlie Card system since the T announced it. I remember using a similar system on my trip to London years ago and it worked well. Of course, the average citizen of London is about three times as intelligent as the average T-rider, and the average Tube employee is Albert Einstein compared to the glorified welfare recipients that work for the MBTA.

I get to the station, with a little extra time because I have never purchased a fare ticket from the automated machines. Everything looks straight forward and self-explanatory, which is good, because there's no one around to answer your questions if you have one, and people started asking me what the fare to South Station was. The machine rejects my ten dollar bill. Twice. Three times. I go to the collector's box, and it's empty, with a handwritten sign taped to the window saying "No Cash No Change." The useless moron on duty in the station tells me I have to get change from the donut shop. She tells me not to blame her, they aren't her machines and it isn't her system. It must be nice to feel so good about what you do for a living. She stormed off in a huff, going through one of the gates to the platform. I followed her through the gate.

My opinion of MBTA employees is that they are basically unemployable parasites. Seventy-five percent of them can't even be bothered to tuck their shirts in. Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. Whether I'm right or wrong, this is a crappy way to head to church, and start my day. So, I sit through the service, and by the time we get to communion, I am feeling contrite and repentant and generally bad about myself for letting any of it bother me, and for taking it out on the woman working at the station, and I'm ready to commit myself to being more patient, more humble, and so on.

On the way home from church, I walk through the station. (I don't ride the train because there's no time concern, but it's on the walking route back to home.) The same woman is still standing next to the empty booth, completely inept and useless, chatting on her cell phone. And I decided that I was right - I shouldn't let it bother me. If someone makes the decision to be useless, it's their life they are going to have to look back on.