Aug. 9th, 2007

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Tuesday, after schlepping yard-sale leftovers to Salvation Army, I gave Tyson and Amanda a ride to a MARTA train station so they could get to the airport. I used it too, but didn't go that far south.

At the Avondale station, I helped a woman who spoke Spanish figure out how to buy a ticket. The kiosk offered English and Deutsch, but not Spanish, Hindi, or Amharic, any of which would have been more useful to the local population. Hearing what was going on, I got drafted to help another Spanish speaker buy two tickets. I was proud to have been able to help.

Once I got to Peachtree Center, I asked an employee where the post office was. They said it was right upstairs and pointed me to the escalator. Well, I'm glad it was working, because it took me about 120 feet up, which doesn't sound like much but is interminable and dizzying. Still, the post office really was at the top of the escalator, so I was able to mail [ profile] mattyo3000's birthday gift and lots of bills without venturing into the sun.

I got enough vitamin D a little while later. I had figured with Google Maps that the Aveda Institute was within walking distance of the Buckhead station, and although it was, it was pretty hot by 2pm. I phoned them for directions so I could avoid getting lost while delirious with the heat, and (after a stop at a nearby Starbucks for refreshment, including an arugula-tomato-mozzarella salad for lunch) got to Aveda in time to score an immediate haircut opening. While walking back toward the station I tried to figure out if there was an easier way to get back, but by the time MARTA's customer service bot told me the estimated wait time was likely to get me there on foot anyway, I had already decided to hoof it and was only holding to get the info for next time. (The 23 stops at the Starbucks, which is a block away.)

If I'd taken the 23, I also could have gone straight to Ikea, which was my next stop. Instead, I rode the train to Arts Center to take the Atlantic Station shuttle. A guy asked if I had 75 cents for a MARTA fare, since he already had a dollar. I said (honestly, since I use a Breeze card) that I didn't, and he walked off, exclaiming loudly and sarcastically, "What a coincidence! No, wait -- a CONSPIRACY!!." I'd have chosen the same crowd to ask, though, since Atlantic Station is pretty ritzy.

After getting a bathroom shelf (which I'm taking back, since Jodi says it clashes horribly), some organic pasta, and a few other things at Ikea, I headed back home. I'd have preferred to have gone to Edgewood Shopping Center to get some garden hose, but I'm going to see if I can get some that someone else doesn't want.

In short (too late), using MARTA seems feasible, especially if I compromise and drive two or three miles to a station. I can also walk half a mile to a bus that comes every 15 minutes, which isn't bad.

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