A day in the life of an unwilling TTC rider

"The worst part of public transportation is the Public." – [Darkwing Duck (Jim Cummings)]

Truer words were never spoken. Yesterday, TR was at Golden Mile's Service area for routine maintenance, a manufacturer's recall and some niggling issues to be taken care of. As such, DW graciously dropped me into East York for my morning class with the Diabetic folks (no, I am not, but... aw, just wait till I can post it). Anyhow, as anyone in the greater GTA area knows, it was hot as hell yesterday. The temperature hit around 37C (sorry US friends, you gotta Google a converter) with a humidex reading of approximately ten degrees more (TR's console said it was 10C outside, hence the need for service). Anyhow, after the class, I decide not to wait for the bus (against DW's wishes as she did not want the fat man to pass out on the sidewalk as he trudged down to the subway station). I popped in to the variety store for my lottery fix and started down.

Bloody nice breeze was providing cooling but it also bloody stank either from the sewer or coming up from the lake. Either way, I was actually more comfortable when the wind stopped blowing and the heat rose. I entered Coxwell station, one of the older, more beaten stops on the Bloor-Danforth line (AKA the Blue Collar line). I only ever sit if the seats are completely open. I'm anti-social and I like it that way; no people near me please. Anyhow, the ride down to the Yonge-University-Spadina line (AKA the White Collar line) was uneventful until it was time to come off at Yonge station and switch trains/lines.

EVERYONE that rides transit knows the rule of courtesy is to let the people get off the train/bus/streetcar BEFORE you attempt to enter and grab that last remaining seat. So, the train pulls into the station, the doors open, me and a few others start to exit the car, and these two ignorant assholish women start to slide themselves through the door on the sides, pushing everyone else into the middle. I spoke up as we passed each other with, "How about you let people get off the train first? Ignorant asshole!" We all make our way upstairs now, either via stairs or using the escalators. Again, EVERYONE knows that you stay right if there are people going both way on the stairs. Nope, this stupid ass woman decides she wanted to move her slow ass up the down side. This, naturally, causes the down people to move to the center to try and pass through both sides of up moving people. This, naturally, slow the entire fricking stairwell down.

And just when you thought one station could not possibly possesess more ignorance, we have the shuffle on the station going on as people jockey to get into position for the onslaught that happens when people board the train going South on the line. While we are waiting for that train to come, a new breed of stupidity rears its head. This woman, late thirties, early to mid-forties, and her two sons are there. EVERYONE knows the yellow, rubberized, two-foot wide strip is there to a) allow the sight-impaired to "feel" where the edge is better and b) help prevent accidents of the kind where people get smushed by the train. We won't mention the wackos that push people onto the tracks (which is why I almost always stand with my back to the wall while waiting for a train to stop). So, what does this woman do? Her younger son is about 9-12 years of age and his laces are untied. She actually bends down to tie this young man's laces for him. While he is standing ON the yellow strip. With his BACK to the train tracks. These same people, later when we got off at the Dundas Street/Eaton Centre stop, ran ALONG the safety strip right beside the moving train pulling out of the station. IDIOTS.

Oh yes, one more example of why I hate riding on the TTC. When the train came to the Yonge stop, the announcer reminded everyone to let the folks off the train first. The area around each door parts like Moses with the Red Sea, and a flood of people stream from inside the cars. Then, a flood of people stream into the cars. Seconds before the door closes, a chime sounds and lights flash at each door. I am one of the last to get on the car because I want to stand at the door. This other guy is coming in beside me. If I saw the woman with the stroller, he sure as hell had to. So, instead of moving in far enough for her to get in, dumbass stops partway in, blocking her. This forces her to swing the stroller and herself quickly sideways so she does not get jammed in the fast closing doors (they do open but it can hurt if caught, I know). The problem with this is she swings the stroller, complete with medium-sized child, right into my leg and foot. She apologizes, and I am not mad at her, since dumbass (who found more room inside) was the cause of it. It just justified paying ridiculous gasoline prices for the comfort, safety, convenience and solitude that sitting in the Roo provides me.

Transit is definitely essential to a big city like Toronto, because without it, I would have to contend with these butt-munches on the road each and every day. I simply don't think my fragile little mind could handle that.