19 June 2012

July 30, 2011

Originally published to the interwebbies on June 7, 2011.
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Dear KVB,
FUCK YOU. You have Fahrplanunregelmäßigkeiten when it is sunny. You have them when it is rainy. They happen on Sunday afternoons, Tuesday mornings, and Wednesdays during rush hour. They happen seemingly without cause, and you have a happy habit of doing FUCK ALL about it, aside, of course, from pleading for our Verständnis.

You know what?

I’m fresh out of Verständnis, and I would greatly appreciate it if, the next time this happens, rather than having the scroll say, “Wir bitten um Ihr Verständnis,” you’d write, “You’re SOL, fuckers – deal with it.”

I mean, you know it’s gonna be an issue when you get to Klettenbergpark on the way home (on a train that is supposed to go to Brühl, no less), and the driver declares, “Bitte alle aussteigen. Zug endet hier.”

And then we’re all wondering what the f- is going on, because I still have four stops till I get home. It’s then we realize that no train is going past Klettenberg, and if someone needs to get home somewhere between Bonn and Brühl, they’re best to hop on the 18 till Barbarossaplatz, and switch to the 16 to get down to Bonn, and then switch back to the 18 to get to Brühl. Because there’s some sort of Störung in Hürth, after all.

Well, FFS, if THAT is going to be the quickest way for those folks to get home, how in the world are those of us who live in Hürth supposed to get home?

Because, you know, if the KVB is saying that they’ll be planning some sort of supplemental transport, that bus which is gonna drive down to Hürth will be organized in, oh, three to four hours.
So it’s time to walk, right?

Now, let’s excuse the fact there was a torrential rainstorm yesterday that, whilst walking from Real to Weißhausstraße, drenched me so thoroughly, my bra and underwear were soaked through. And jeans. I vaguely felt like I did when I was eight years old at the swimming lessons where we had to swim in our clothes for practicing rescue techniques.

Yeah, it was that wet.

So, yes. Of course I’m pumped to be walking seven kilometres home.

As if it didn’t get better when the rain finally subsided and a nice, cool wind started up. At least my jeans were starting to dry. Too bad my underwear/bra wasn’t, and I still had five kilometres to go.
You know, I normally make fun of Germans for being so afraid that they’re going to catch a cold. They wear scarves in the summer to protect their necks from those pesky draughts (they’ll kill people, dontchaknow), or refusing to go outside with wet hair when it’s 20 degrees because, heaven forbid, they’ll probably catch pneumonia.

But I’m pretty sure that being outside in wet clothes and cold wind for a couple of hours WILL make me sick. Am I supposed to have Verständnis when I have to miss classes for being so ill?

Then again, I probably could have called a Taxi. That is, if my job had actually paid me eight days ago like they were supposed to.

Looks like that option’s out, too.

FML.

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