Deaf and the New MBTA

The view as we left Valhalla yesterday morning

Woke up, fell out of bed
Dragged a comb across my head
Found my way downstairs and drank a cup
And looking up, I noticed I was late

Beatles -- Day in the Life

Spent the day in town yesterday. I had my yearly, much procrastinated mammogram (AKA boob squishing) at nine AM and another appointment at 3:30 PM. I figured, instead of spending all day traveling back and forth, from Valhalla to Boston and back, I’d spend those five and a half hours between doc visits doing something fun -- galleries, a stroll up the beautiful Commonwealth Mall, a stop at Utrecht’s for paint sticks, LUNCH. You know, fun stuff.

On her way to work, Jen dropped me off near Harvard Square. I looked forward to my walk along the Charles River on my way to the MBTA stop. It would’ve been molto lovely if not for the big construction on the Larz Anderson Bridge, the heavy, juddering rush hour traffic and that damned biting, frozen wind stinging my eyes. Sheesh. I should’ve worn a chic little welder’s mask, no? Something with a darling steampunk sensibility would have been perfect, eh?

night on the Commonwealth Mall

Tree in a sweater of lights

Yes, yes that would’ve been just the thing!

In any case, when I got to the T my Charlie Card, despite still having credit on it, had expired. ‘the fuck? How could it expire when I still had money on it?! The T fellows were helpful, patient and nice, even if the news they gave me was not. I had to go into the Charlie Card Store at Downtown Crossing to get a replacement card.

The office’s location is convenient for many, at the the nexus of four subway lines, but completely out of my way. I rarely pass that way AND, last time I was there (mind you, this was perhaps as much as eight years ago) the desk jockeys were profoundly unhelpful to the point of medal winning rudeness. I was developing a rasher of stress just at the thought of going in there, dealing with nasty attitudes AND having to do it while deaf too. I knew I could do this though -- I can be quite the imperious ‘peasant, you are here to serve ME!’ type when I need to be.

I braced myself, made the trek uphill from MGH through the bitter, rip-the-soul-right-outta-you wind canyons of the Financial District, to the intersections of Summer and Washington Streets and found the new card office. I was greeted at the door by a welcoming, professional young man. He asked what they could help me with. Congenial, efficient AND helpful?????? This was unexpected. I went through my usual ‘Hi, I’m deaf. Speak slowly and I’ll try to read your lips’ shtick and then told him about my busted pass. He immediately WROTE and spoke what I was to do -- see the person at desk number three.

I did and, shock upon shocks, the lovely lady there SIGNED to me! She knew ASL and, on top of that, was accommodating, polished AND had a great smile! And, did I mention, she spoke my language. How awesome to the 12th power is that?

Her name’s Latasha. I didn’t catch the Greeter Guy’s name but he was totes fab as well.

This was not the MBTA that I had expected. Happily. They made my day.