Bish, Plz. (This Is Not About Politics)
I just wanted to get that out of the way. It’s over, we got non-blitzed attacked by the red team in a back alley, and now we’re being left to die, our multi-colored arteries slowly bleeding out.
Our rail (derr metaphors) arteries are different colors, as you may have noticed sometime in the past… oh, I dunno, couple years. Those four colors, in case you guys missed it, are (Not-Yellow-But) Gold, Red, Blue and (Why’d-They-Even-Make-These-Separate-Lines) Green. (I don’t know why, you guys! Also, don’t care, it’s done. Like our slow death as a region.)
But seriously, people are all over TweetFace talking about how they have to move away to some place better because we don’t care about our future obviously since Dave FM is changing formats and OMFG YOLO. You may only live once (theologists are still not returning my calls), however sometimes you move to a new place, like all these people are talking about. Beforehand, you probably go visit at least once for a job interview, to get your bearings and whatnot.
I did that before I moved here from Chicago, before the arteries had color-names and were sort of preset as like… Red-Orange, Red and Blue or whatever the hell we feel like cuz we don’t have colors for our lines yet, y’all! Back then, for that week, I was effectively a tourist, but no one could tell.
(Sidenote: Now that I’m working on a video project seven years later, running around with a camera, people think I’m a tourist more than ever, because no one could possibly see any value in filming Atlanta if they lived here or something. Bish, plz. Am I wearing a Hawaiian print shirt?)
Anyway, these are the facts we have so far:
*I’m not a tourist
*The rail lines have assigned colors
*Our region hates itself
The third fact has nothing to do with my story, but… Yanno. #YOLO.
So, even before I was working on this video project, I was still running all over town, like going to work and stuff. As happens, a train had just pulled away, and I stopped to ask which train I missed because if ’twas my desperately needed red line, well, fuck, a longer wait. If it wasn’t mine, it’s coming in a minute and woohoo! This is how it went.
ME: Was that a red or a gold?
LADY: A what?
ME: Which train was that, red or gold?
LADY: Where are you trying to go?
ME: I know where I’m going, but what train just left?
LADY: Doraville. What were you saying about red?
ME: (pointing at the map) The lines are different colors, they have been for about three years.
LADY: Oh, they did that for tourists. I grew up here, so I don’t go by that.
ME: FUCK YOU DID YOU JUST CALL ME A TOURIST THEY DID NOT DO IT FOR THAT REASON THEY DID IT BECAUSE NO ONE REALLY KNOWS WHY BUT STILL BITCH ITS THE NEW ORDER AND THATS WHAT CITIES DO IS HAVE COLOR CODED TRAIN LINES AND DID YOU NOT READ THE NEWS ABOUT HOW PISSED THE ASIAN COMMUNITY WAS WITH THAT WHOLE GOLD YELLOW THING THIS COLOR SCHEME WAS A BIG DEAL THATS LIKE ME BEING IN CHICAGO AND SAYING A TRAIN THAT GOES TO 54TH AND CERMAK IS NOT THE PINK LINE BECAUSE IT WASNT ALWAYS THE PINK LINE EVEN THOUGH PINK AS A LINE COLOR IS KIND OF STUPID YOU SHOULD PAY ATTENTION TO IT AND NOT BE AN IGNORANT MOFO WHO GOES AROUND CALLING PEOPLE WHO LIVE IN BAD NEIGHBORHOODS A TOURIST
That’s not what really happened. I mean, I said all those things, just not to her because we already walked in opposite directions, she I’m sure to her office where she could tell the story about the tourists who didn’t know where they were going. I was with the Bus Nerd who, in case you don’t remember, works for MARTA, and knows when and why the line colors were changed, but we don’t talk about that.
Also, she was wrong; the next train was a (Gold) Doraville and not a (Red) North Springs, as it should have been if she was not a dumb effing see. She was on a different train than she thought the whole time, so who’s a tourist? Nobody, but you’re still stupid, lady.