When this whole transit disruption thing started happening, I did expect some unpleasant side effects. I knew my regular daily rhythm would become irregular. I recognized that this black cloud of union strike-action would be cast over us riders until there was a new deal. I also knew that buses could just simply not show up leaving you at your stop standing there with your pants around your ankles. This led to me carpooling to the LRT recently. But there's side effect whose impact I severely miscalculated.The C-Train experience.
When you are a regular commuter on the Express Bus, travelling daily from a bedroom community to the downtown core, the clientele on the bus are generally cut from the same cloth. We're mostly white-collar professionals, we conduct ourselves with a moderate degree of dignity, we mainly just keep to ourselves. The chit-chat that you do overhear is generally centered around current events or sports, but is generally convivial.
Monday was my first commute by C-Train.
The Train is a whole different ball game. The first thing you realize when you step on the train, is that the average IQ plummets dangerously low, to the mid-range double-digits. You do see professionals, but then again you see others who are in various states of disrepair. Some C-Train clientele would leave the most steadfast believers in Darwin's Theory of Natural Selection at a loss for explanation.
How else do you explain the full-figured "lady" who wears a backpack that most Marines would find too large on a Train packed with riders during afternoon rush hour? Her girth alone is an obstacle, adding the backpack is like salt in the wound.
Then there's the shaved head, overalls wearing, greasy-looking guy talking loudly on his cell phone proudly sharing his conversation with the entire train of how he got so f**ked up last night and was going to smash this guy's face in. Yes sir. You are a tough one. How I did not soil myself with fear when I heard this I have no idea. But I would probably drink alot too if I attracted the type of women that you probably do. Maybe I should introduce you to the "big boned" lady with the backpack.
Then there's the 15 year-old white kid with the gangsta rap blaring out of his iPod at a volume that is sure to make his ears bleed. Hey, nobody mess with this guy, he'll pull out a nine, bust a cap. Hey MC PipSqueek, do you really think we are the least bit intimidated by this sorry display? You are a pathetic worm, and don't forget my fries next time I'm at McDonalds.
There are people on the C-Train that would annoy Ghandi. But what is ironic is that the City started an ad campaign warning riders that bad behaviour will earn you a fine. Problem is, I've never ever heard of enforcement. What the City should do is start blasting these morons with tickets, put the money back into the transit system. Judging by the number of these mental-defectives, we'll be riding solid gold C-Trains equipped with leather recliners in no time.
For the sake of my sanity, I really hope the City and the Transit Union can get a deal done.
7 comments:
So you unwittingly emerge from your "Sun City" bubble and have to mix with the regular folk and find it distasteful? Is the air in McKenzie town (where all the little kids are named "McKenzie") that much cleaner and purer than the rest of the city to the extent that you have developed an aversion?
The other day Cindy, Perry and I had lunch at the Wendy's on 17th Ave SW near 14th Street and opted to sit on the picnic tables outside. I used to live in this neighborhood in the 90s—and many has it changed! We felt safe to sit down because there were two city cops eating in their van in the parking lot to keep an eye on things. The moment they left, the circus began—3 would-be drug dealers began conducting business in a phonebooth (all in it at once). A couple of needle-tracked hookers stumbled by—yelling at each other, and 2 scary looking individuals took up the picnic table adjacent to ours.
"many has it changed" is the new Oxford English approved way of saying "Man, has it changed."
Hello? Is anybody there? Echo! (echo echo)
Did the United Workers of Local 417 of the Plositivity Blog go on strike? If so, please let me know where the picket line is so I may taunt them...
hey, we're on our hourly frickin' coffee break! We'll get back to you when we're done playing cards and don't think we haven't let our union buds in the sanitation department know about your little taunt. Maybe a little stewing in your own waste will change your attitude.
When you work at City Hall, and have the honour and privilege of serving our citizens, each and every hour of our typical work day is as enjoyable as a "coffee break".
I could barely get through the sickly sweetness of hearing about your "honour and privilege serving." I think I need to go to rotten.com for a while to even my system out a bit.
Post a Comment