See Something? Say Something.

That's what the annoying voice of MBTA General Manager Daniel Grabauskas says to me every time I'm waiting for the T at the Boylston T stop.

It's also what was printed on a bright orange pamphlet that was handed to me by a reflector-vest-clad T employee as I dragged my sorry carcass off the T. She handed this cautionary pamphlet to every passenger that didn't avoid her like a leper. Unlike the rest of the people who took the pamphlet, I did not just throw it onto our city's streets the moment I got out of eyeshot of the woman who handed it to me. No, I kept it. Why? Because I see something every day on the T. And I think you all know that I'm gonna say something.

Maybe I missed the point of the pamphlet. You see, its contents were all about reporting suspicious packages and bags to MBTA police. The pamphlet is meant to instill fear within the citizens of Boston. Now, don't get me wrong. I'm all about fear. I love it. I bask in it like a prancing sprite in the azure waters of a forest stream. But the problem is, I enjoy being fearful of things that are actually threatening me.

What is threatening me? Not bombs. Not chemical nerve agents. Not terrorists. Because who in their right mind would ever want to attack Boston? On the long list of terror targets by a long list of angry people throughout the world, I'd venture to say that Boston is last on the list.

However, there are a few things that actually do threaten my every day life. My American way of life. For starters, how about an estimated T fare increase to $1.55? That's an extra 30 cents to add to my growing list of economic burdens. Call me stingy, but that 30 cents could probably go towards many more fruitful endeavors such as going downtown to buy crack in downtown crossing. Or...maybe I should just stop buying crack.

The point is, I'm mad. Less about the actual money that I'm going to have to shell out than about how annoying it is to find a nickel to pay for T fare. Usually I'm averse to change. By change I mean actual coins in my pocket; not a deep rooted personal and psychological metamorphosis that a man willingly accepts in certain points in his life at the realization of his own mortality. I'm all for that.

No self respecting man carries nickels on his person at any point in his day. Quarters are essential. We all know that. Dimes...I'm indifferent to. But Nickels? They're so arbitrary. And pennies are also great because when a homeless person asks you for change, you can reach into your pocket and, although you do have many quarters, you can pretend to fish around for a bit, pull out a penny, feign regret, drop it in his cup, and say "sorry that's all I have."

According to The Harvard Crimson, "MBTA spokesman Joe Pesaturo defended the increases as necessary, noting that the MBTA'’s fares are among the lowest in the country."

He may have a good point, but you know what? I don't care. I'm a Bostonian. I don't care what people do in Chicago, San Francisco, or New York. The only thing that matters is that I'm going to be slightly inconvenienced every single day. Maybe if the T's service wasn't so horrendous and its management was a bit more savvy, there wouldn't be an 8 billion dollar MBTA deficit. Just because they blew it why should the hard working Bostonian commuter have to pick up the pieces?

Oh, right. The pamphlet. I seem to have digressed a bit. I...hate pamphlets too.