Today I had the day off from work to attend E3 ("BE SURE TO MARK YOUR TIMESHEETS WITH JOB CODE E3-001!!!") and I thought it might be nice to try taking the LA (cough) transit system to the show. The Blue Line runs from near my house (7 miles away) and drops you off at the Convention Center. Sounds easy!

On my drive to the station I was thinking how cool it was that we had a public transit system that came to my town about 40 miles south of LA. I should start using it more, I thought. I wondered if I could start riding it to work. Maybe I could get a second car and leave it at the station near my office. Or a bike. Why hadn't I ridden it before? I love public transportation!

According to MapQuest the terminal is on a street called "American Way" (har) off Willow. But when I make the turn there is no "American Way" and I spent about 10 minutes driving around an Albertson's grocery store parking lot before I realize that "American Way" is just a tiny side street that dead ends into a parking garage.

I park my car in front of the grocery store and walk to the sign that says Blue Line Terminal. From the sign I can see the actual entrance to the terminal which is about a block a way. As I walk over to the real terminal some kids in the playground next to the platform are yelling at me that their ball has gone over the fence and that they'd like me to toss it back to them. They start every sentence with "Sir" or "Hey Mister" and I smile at the absurdity of calling a guy wearing a headbug shirt "Mister". As I walk it over to the fence one of the kids yells at me to, "Kick it over, faggot!"

"Mister" I can deal with, but "faggot" is so extraordinarily rude I almost want to keep the ball and sit at the terminal with it. I decide I don't need any trouble with fifth graders and toss it over the fence. As I was winding up I was thinking to myself, "don't throw like a faggot, don't throw like a faggot" which, I'm not sure what that means, but I figured I needed to seem "manly". So far this is my day: trying not to seem like a faggot in front of some 5th graders while stradling the American Way.

I cross the tracks and step up onto the platform only to find out that I have a wad of $20's and no small bills. The machine accepts only $1's and $5's and so I realize I have to trek back to the grocery store to break one of my bills. As I cross the rails, the alarm rings that the train is about to arrive. I now have to wait 30 minutes for the next train.

By now it's been nearly thirty minutes since I left my house and I was looking at 30 more minutes until I'd get on the train. The sun was really heating things up and there was hardly any wind blowing. So after waiting in a very long line at the grocery store to buy a pack of gum I have to walk by my car. My car...

It was then that the Los Angeleno in me took over. I am happier in my car. Nobody calls me "faggot" and I can run the A/C until my headbug grows horns. I drove to the Convention Center today thinking, "they should really run those trains more frequently...there'd be less traffic for me".