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BART's Anime Mascots

(www.bart.gov)
150 points archagon | 6 comments | | HN request time: 0s | source | bottom
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cosmicgadget ◴[] No.43808148[source]
> The reincarnated bunny spirit of a legacy car who has seen it all.

Not how I picture a BART car that has "seen it all".

replies(3): >>43808272 #>>43808288 #>>43808450 #
cultofmetatron ◴[] No.43808272[source]
no kidding.. I lived in SF during the peak of the influx of tech and was a daily BART rider. there's things I can't unsee.
replies(1): >>43808589 #
1. Lammy ◴[] No.43808589[source]
I'm glad I got to experience the carpeted cars with cloth seats even if they got gross some times.
replies(1): >>43809340 #
2. cobbzilla ◴[] No.43809340[source]
Cloth seats on BART must be among the worst design decisions ever made. Seating on public transit must be something that can be hosed down with bleach, and not a material that will forever hold whatever funk is deposited into it.
replies(3): >>43809448 #>>43809469 #>>43831947 #
3. Lammy ◴[] No.43809448[source]
It was way more comfortable to sit on, soft surfaces help keep noise levels down inside the car, and I wash my clothes regularly :p
4. flomo ◴[] No.43809469[source]
I took BART a lot (uhhh) 30 years ago. The trains were very clean and highly policed. I wouldn't even bring a coffee on board, much less smoke crank or whatever. Different era.
replies(1): >>43810263 #
5. SllX ◴[] No.43810263{3}[source]
Sounds like the dream. All I want is a more frequent police presence in and around the station infrastructure and on the trains for both BART and MUNI. Like why is that a different era? Why can’t that be the current era?
6. cobbzilla ◴[] No.43831947[source]
I find it implausible that anyone who actually rode these could remember them fondly.

To the defenders: I ask you to please describe your memory of “the BART smell” from the cloth-seat era, if you have such firsthand experience.

I do remember. Many years make a strong impression. And while that specific smell-memory is largely indescribable, it’s nonetheless and unfortunately quite unforgettably awful.

My attempt: imagine a laundry hamper very full of very dirty clothes, including a few with fecal/other/mystery stains, slow-baked for weeks in a warm closet. Now open the closet door and take a deep nasal breath— that’s what stepping onto the train was like. I feel zero positive nostalgia.