Girard Ave trolley

septa trolley
A recent trip on one of the newly-restored Girard Avenue trollies featured a man named Petey and his unnamed friend:

Yeah, I call myself Petey, but don’t you call me that. I get pissed, that’s what. And when I’m pissed at you, you’ll know it. I don’t blow my stack or nothing, but I just won’t talk to you. And after a while, you’ll know I’m pissed.

One time, a guy came around calling me Petey. I had been givin’ him the silent treatment, and he showed up at my house one night yelling “Petey’s mad! Petey’s pissed!” all mocking-like. After a few minutes of that, I went out with a golf club and knocked out two of his teeth. Then I told him to fuck off and stop bleeding all over my goddam sidewalk. He ran away pretty quick, and I yelled after him, “Petey’s mad! Petey’s pissed!”

Of course, I’ve calmed down a lot. God told me I had to change, or I was gonna die, and no one can change you except you. And religion.

4 responses to “Girard Ave trolley”

  1. Alli

    This article was totally hilarious! I’m laughing out loud reading “Petey’s pissed!”
    I’m from Texas, and have never been to Philly, but it sounds like a great place to visit. I found this site by accident, but will come back just to laugh!

  2. Sassy J

    Such characters. What is one to supposed to call Petey without getting him pissed?

  3. Becky

    He prefers to be called Pete.

  4. freddy

    You would think religion would have cured him from golf-related bouts of rage. I wonder if when he gets to Heaven, if God will call him Petey just to test him.