Philly Car Rage

As a long time user of Philly Car Share and an employee of a fellow non-profit I was not that surprised at the new billing plan. I was also not that surprised at how the blogging public seemed to be handling it. I was, however, ashamed.

Do I think the announcement was handled poorly? Yes. Do I think there should be more transparency in a company that markets itself as a public service? Yes. Do I believe I have better ideas about how the company should be run--of course. We all do, but we also don't have all the facts. I think there are a few things people are forgetting.

First, to those of you complaining about how you only use it once a year--Philly Car Share is still paying to insure you those other 364 days. That is expensive. Philly Car Share is now much more expensive than taking a cab or renting a car every so often, but it is a hell of a lot cheaper than owning, maintaining, insuring and gassing up your very own car.

Secondly, when you're running a business--even a non-profit one--there is a need for a regular stream of income. When the economy, sucks grants dry up and the money needs to come from somewhere. You know how when you just buy a plain old bagel it costs 50 cents, but when you get it with cream cheese it's $1.75. You're not paying $1.25 for that lousy swab of cream cheese. You're paying for that employee to stand their and wait for that electricity sucking toaster, pull it from the tray, slap the cream cheese on, wrap it up and hand it to you. Likewise with Car Sharing--you're paying for someone to clean up the car after your kid smashes Cheerios all over the back seat, to talk to you for 15 minutes when you can't figure out how to start a Prius and to keep the electricity on in the building so they can turn on their computers to make the whole system run. And by the way, Zip Car is not the answer. The only reason they are cheap now is because they are crazy expensive in other cities. Once healthy competition is run out of town they will double in price. Ask your friends in New York how much they pay for a car. They don't know any better, but you'll be shocked!

Finally, the people who pick up the phone at Philly Car Share are people. They are your neighbors, they are your friends, they are your fellow Philadelphians and most importantly, the are most definitely not the people who made the decision to start charging you. Maybe the new charge isn't an economically good decision for you. Fine. Just cancel. Don't scream at the person on the other line. They aren't ruining your life, they're just forcing you to take a cab every so often. If you're that reliant on a service that a few years ago didn't even exist maybe you should just pony up the $15. I can't make that decision for you. I wish I had a few more days to make that decision for myself. I'm sure they will loose a lot of members. I'm sure many of those members will come back. All I'm asking is that you remember the last time your boss threw you under the bus and you had to take all the heat for it. It sucks. Practice a little decency and class up, people.

The Devil and SEPTA, or February 20th, 2009

A post by the lovely and wonderful Stephanie Dellavalentina--our newest contributor. Amazing.

So I’m waiting for the bus this morning- bundled up to my eyeholes and hunching against the 12 degrees of whipping awful- when I realize that I’m at the stop early. My breakfast at Vincenzo’s took no time at all and was peacefully cooling in my purse, leaving me ten minutes to spare before the bus. I thought about going home for a minute to warm up, oddly enough the 9th Street bus- which is rarely on time- is early and already down at about Snyder Ave. I take it as Omen: Good and wait. Sipping my tea I was blissfully ignorant that it was really Omen: Richard Donner. Thus began my morning with SEPTA and The Devil.

For your edification: the 9th Street bus is a boutique route. It comes occasionally, stops when it wants to, and really is only present to serve the little old Italian ladies who can’t make it up to 11th or down to 7th. There is a small handful of us who have figured out that the first run of the day gets you into Center City at 9am (give or take) and opt for rouletting it on 9th rather than subjecting ourselves to the horror that is 7th. I can step out my front door and be at the stop, and my office is half a block away on the back end. Despite the unreliability, I love this line.

This morning I noticed right away the large number of new faces occupying the prime real estate that is the elevated rear of the bus. I opt for second best and take up the bank directly opposite the rear doors, and with that decision get a front row seat to the bout.

As the bus rolls through the Italian Market. A passenger requests the next stop and waits at the back door, calling out to the driver. The bus genuflects, lets a woman out the front, takes on another passenger, and rises, preparing to pull away. The guy waiting at the back door calls for the back door again. It plays out something like this:

Guy: “BACK DOOR! YO MAN, CAN I GET THE BACK DOOR?!”

Driver: “Front door:”

Guy: “YO MAN- BAAACK DOOOOR!!! BACK DOOR!”

Driver: “FRONT DOOR.”

I wonder WTF this is all about and curse the early morning pissing contest. I then realize exactly what is going on. The bus is stopped in the Italian Market, meaning there is limited space to maneuver. Looking out the windows on the back door I realize that the back doors are directly next to a burn barrel and flames are licking up the side of the bus. I think I saw one squeeze in the opening between the accordion doors. I then appreciate that the dude in front of me could only be seeing the same thing that I was- if he walked out the back door he’d be walking into fire.

Devil: “MAN, I SAID BACK DOOR!!!”

Driver: “You can come on out the front.”

Devil: (looking longingly at flame): “Ok, ok… I’m not trying to fight today.”

Devil: (under breath) “You’re gonna get your due, though. Tell you that.”

Ok, so the longing look part is embellishment, but the rest is truth- hand to god. He muttered that last part in my direction, shook his head, and walked to the front.

So The Devil gets off the bus and we continue through the Market. Driver is still worked up, so when we get to Christian and there’s a truck blocking part of the street, Driver forgets his responsibility as a SEPTA bus driver. Instead of sticking his head out the window, yelling, and laying on the horn until the other driver is enraged or embarrassed into moving or hustling, Driver whips the bus down Christian.

And the Devil got his due. 7th- cars parked. Nowhere to turn. 5th- blocked off by PGW. 3rd- no dice. I think that’s where Moyamensing comes in and makes that weird triangle. So the 9th Street bus is now forced all the way down to the Delaware River. Front Street did not provide any more opportunity. It wasn’t until Lombard that we were able to right our course. By this time the riders were restless. If you don’t know Philly- I will educate you. The next to last place you want to be is on SEPTA with a bunch of angry mugs. The absolute last place you want to be is in the shoes of the guy causing the frustration.

By the time I got off the bus (oddly on time- because we didn’t have to stop and do all that, y’know, superfluous picking up and dropping off of passengers), Driver had lost much of his swagger. His crap face was gone; left behind was a thin film of sweat and fear. I shouldered my bag and debarked. The cold of the wind hurting my exposed grin, I shook my head and walked to the office.

Man, I always thought The Devil WAS SEPTA, but he’s droppin’ tokens just like the rest of us.Next up- Encounters With

Extraterrestrials In ACME. They’re out there. You know it…