I’ve certainly had my share of adventures on BART. More than most people. There was the crazy homeless guy shouting from the Embarcadero to Rockridge where we told him to get off because we had called the police. We called the BART Police at Embarcadero, they finally got on the train at Walnut Creek and proceeded to try and hold the train there. Dude, the crazy guy got off at Rockridge, you’re three stops too late. Can we just go home now? Then there was the crazy guy who was beating his head against the closed door at Embarcadero. He had bloodied himself and was hollering I don’t even know what. They held the train and the BART Police hauled him off and hooked him up. All these events happened on my car. Yesterday, I had to meet the contractor and the soon to be new house. I left work in time to make the 2:57, knowing I’d be at the property in plenty of time. Ah, mice and men. No soup for you! Halfway through the tube that runs UNDER the bay, the train comes to an abrupt stop. Our car fills up with a stench of fire, or smoked brakes or something. And we sit. And sit. And sit. Finally, Skippy our driver comes on to explain that the brakes have locked up and we’re going to travel a bit slower from now on. How about not at all? Skippy decides that it would be a peachy idea to turn the train off completely and reset the system, so, he advises us, we’ll be in the dark for about a minute, minute and a half or two. I’m claustrophobic and being in a tin train in a tube underneath San Francisco Bay in the dark with no way out is a recipe for disaster. My God! What if he turns off the train and it won’t start again? Is MacGiver on this train? Can we get out? What if there’s an earthquake and the tube splits and the car starts leaking water under the pressure of the bay? Can we get out of the car with a cell phone pen light and a can of pepper spray? Deep breaths because the lady next to me is hanging by a thread, just like I am. Skippy fires up the train and it actually starts, then we start to move and we’re safe at the West Oakland station now. There’s a sentence you don’t see often “safe at the West Oakland station”.