Once, my father and I were taking the Red Line home. All was going fine, until we reached Central Square. There, the train just sat at the station with the doors open. One by one, people started getting off the train. I was trying to coax my father into getting off and taking the 83 home, but he wasn’t budging. He assumed it was some minor problem and we’d be moving soon. After about 10 minutes of just sitting there, the doors finally closed and the train started moving. We reached Harvard and again the train stopped and sat there. I was trying to tell my father that we could take the 77 home, but he didn’t want to do it. After another 10 minute wait, we left for Porter, where we – you guessed it – sat there for another 10 minutes. We could’ve taken the 77 from here as well, but I have no idea why we didn’t at this point. Of course the driver didn’t tell us what was going on over the speakers. None of us knew what was going on. Finally, we got to Alewife where we decided to have a word with the driver. We walked to the front of the train and asked him what was going on, and he told us there was a switch problem. Thanks, buddy! You could’ve told us all before over the speakers so we knew what was going on! Just saying!