New York's MTA And The Ultimate Customer Service Non-Conversation

Let me make one thing clear: I am a public transportation girl.  I love taking subways and have learned my way around many of the world's greatest cities by using the subway system.  Not only do you learn where things are in the metropolis, but you get to observe the culture from an interesting, real-life perspective.  Many of the people who use the subways on a daily basis are the people who make cities run, i.e. the worker bees.  Plus assorted kids and parents, and elderly, too.  And--highly important--there are tourists,  the people that provide much cash to the city coffers during their visit.  These are the same people who, when they go home and (we hope) brag about the great time they had, are influenced by the experience they had as passengers on the subway system

New York's MTA is a terrific operation, for the most part.  Despite layoffs and budget cuts, they have moved forward with impressive improvements, from an amazing facility at the World Trade Center that will provide access to no less than eleven subway lines (yes, 11!) to audible service announcements to on-the-second readouts at every station that tell exactly how long a wait it will be for the next train.  Yes, I know many cities around the world have enjoyed this kind of improvement for some time, but this is New York, where the infrastructure is old and it has taken major effort to upgrade.  The effort is worth it because it is already looking pretty spiffy.

Then there is the experience I had shortly before Christmas when I went down the stairway to my usual entrance to the #6 subway line that whisks people like me from Grand Central Station to the Upper East Side.  I had a problem that morning with my MetroCard not reading properly at the turnstyle, so I needed to talk with one of the station operators on duty.  Luckily it was just seconds past 6:45 PM, and I knew that this particular station has people manning their booth until 7 PM during the week.  Makes sense to keep this particular booth open that long because this is a central location through which many tourists pass and we all know that a friendly, smiling employee on the MTA can make all the difference in the good impression people take away about their Metro experience.

But as I neared the booth, I saw a sloppy, handwritten sign saying "CLOSED" in the window on the stairway side of the booth.  What's this, I ask myself?  An emergency of some kind?  I round the booth's corner, and see that besides the professionally printed "CLOSED" signs that normally appear at 7:00 PM, there is yet another sloppy handwritten sign saying "CLOSED," apparently put there just in case we passengers who wanted service at the booth hadn't yet gotten the message from the other three signs.  There were several people standing at the booth window looking perplexed.

So I walk up and see that there are indeed two MTA employees sitting in the booth, looking out at these MTA customer passengers.  They are looking passively, disinterestedly, even though I hear the passengers in line saying "But why are you not open, since the sign says you don't close until 7:00 PM?  The station employees simply mouthed the word "closed" in response.  No explanation, no apology, just "CLOSED."

So I, ever the intrepid New Yorker, approach the booth and indicate that I'd like an explanation.  "CLOSED" is what I get, too.  I show the station employee my watch, saying it is now 6:50.  Ten more minutes until closing time.  "No," she mouths, "We are CLOSED."  I find myself getting infuriated.  And my fury is matched by that of the dozen or so people who have now congregated around me.  Except for two, they are all tourists, some visiting for the first time.

I was tempted to just use another ticket I had and go through the turnstyle to my train.  But I had to watch this play out.  So we all entreated, pleaded, pantomimed our watch hands showing there was time left to wait on us.  All to no avail.  And at 7:00 PM, the two station operators looked at one another, as if to say, "Well, we did it...we can leave now," and that's exactly what they did.

I didn't have my camera with me then so I went back the next day--this time well after 7:00 PM-- and saw the signs up again, including the crummy, third world looking handwritten signs which--just for good measure--let everyone no there is NO SERVICE at this station.  So I took pictures of those signs as well as the official MTA sign informing me and other passengers that "This is your station" and if there is a
complaint about anything, we should give the MTA a call. 

I'm making that call now and will let you know how that conversation goes.