Robert Grisby, 32 and a self-described "pilot in a man's body", is stuck working in a boring job, as a conductor for Metra's Union Pacific North Line, sources say. "Don't work for Metra, it will suck you in. I started working illegally when I was 15 after dropping out of high school, because I needed money for flight school.
I had no documentation of my age, but I was already 300 lbs from eating so many donuts on Saturday mornings during 'Rugrats' and 'Doug', so they hired me to bounce unruly passengers around. Even though I'm just a conductor now, I've never stopped dreeeami…" as he trailed off while watching a Boeing 747 fly overhead.
Mr. Grisby is currently experiencing low levels of job satisfaction. "Pilots have it made. They're on their own up there, 35000 feet up. The survival of the passenger and crew depends on the pilot and his co-pilot", Mr. Grisby said, completely oblivious to the fact that more people were on the Metra train with him than in any airplane.
"You know what else sucks? Planes have hot stewardesses, they come and bring you coffee and shit. You know what the Metra has? Dudes, lots of dudes. It's a god damn sausage fest, have you ever seen a female conductor?" He paused, picked a man without a ticket up by his belt, and proceeded to hurl the gentlemen out of the train car and into the Chicago River. "They have to gender discriminate, because honestly, I've never met a woman who could throw an adult male into the river when he forgets his ticket. Damn free-riders."
Because he's too much of a chicken shit to actually fly, his closet desire to be a pilot comes out in other ways. Work associates note his apparent passion. "Man, he must really love planes" says co-worker Adam Grotezky in a recent phone interview. "He'll be punching some one's ticket or something, and he'll pick up the sound of a jet engine over Lake Michigan somewhere, like miles away.
Yeah that's right, over the obnoxious roar of the train engines. He drops the ticket and dives across the passengers' laps to look up out of the window, and catches a faint glimpse of the plane. Like he thinks it's a UFO or something. Then he usually goes into the bathroom and masturbates. I really don't know how he finds his penis among all that blubber. The passengers usually don't take to it kindly, the getting crushed part and the obvious loud impersonation of a jet engine from the bathroom, but they all know it's 'just crazy old Bob'."
Mr. Grisby's repressed desire leaks out when he goes over the intercom. He says he feels a "responsibility" to make announcements over the intercom. "I like to give a little reminding speech when the passengers get off, to help them out and welcome them to Chicago", unaware that unlike in airplanes, all passengers live within 30 miles of Chicago.
"I say the traditional stuff like 'watch your step', but I also add my own things, like 'gather your worldly possessions' and 'tilt your seat back to the upright position', even though the seats automatically snap to the upright position as soon as you stand up."
Passengers take heed of his speeches. "Who does he think he is, a fucking pilot?" complained Cindy Turley. "Honestly, I about snapped when I heard his speech when we were pulling into Ogilvie [Transportation Center]. 'Gather my worldly possessions'? 'Welcome to Chicago'? I got news for ya buddy, we were in Chicago too when we stopped at Rogers Park, Ravenswood, and Clybourne. Where was my welcome then? Sheesh, you'd think he forgot he was on a stupid train. I'm surprised he didn't tell me about the weather."
To which Mr. Grisby lit up and smiled at the thought of the idea, and began planning how to best deliver his next speech. "Do you think I should use 'partly cloudy' or 'moderately cloudy'?", he asked rhetorically.
