I’m an ingrate. The folks at Metro — at stupendous expense — provide me with a quick way into work and how do I react?

Why I complain, of course.

Here’s my beef about Metrolink, the light rail system: I like to read while I ride. But the constant, irritating rap from the loudspeakers drives me batty. I can’t concentrate on my Post-Dispatch.

Hey, Metro. Sure, your driver has to call out the stations. But you don’t have to list all the connecting bus lines at each stop, or all the sights and attractions. You don’t have to tell us that we need a ticket to ride the train (most of us can figure that out) or walk us through the other rules for passengers every day. And you don’t have to thank us for riding. Getting us to work on time is thanks enough.

After a year on the rails, I have the whole spiel memorized. It’s tolerable when your driver mumbles incoherently. But when he speaks loudly and clearly, it makes me wish for ear plugs.

Quiet, please.

That said a ride on Metro is $2 well spent. I always get a seat, even in rush hour, and it’s almost always on time. It puts the Chicago El to shame.