So, I started a new job a couple of months ago. They say a change is as good as a rest, and this is a change. One of the changes is that I now commute to work on the bus, the 52-seat limo, the boneshaker.
Most of the time, I put on my headphones and fall asleep, but yesterday I managed to keep my eyes open long enough to notice some things, about people, about my city, even a little bit about the nature life in general. I had the urge to open Twitter account, just so I could spill them out of my overflowing (and possibly overtired) brain, but since I hate Twitter with practically every fiber of my being, I thought I’d try it out here.
So, without further ado:
The Boneshaker Chronicles: remarks about life from my window seat on the 35
My favourite moment on the bus comes when I’m waiting for my transfer at Lebreton Flats.
Several times a week, the timing works out that I’m a witness as the east-bound express stops just as the north-bound to Quebec is loading, down the block and across the road.
Watching grown men and women, dressed in slacks and high heels and carrying briefcases, RUN at full tilt down the sidewalk in a mad, hopeful dash to make their connection is so crazy and surreal that I can’t help but smile out loud every time I see it.
It happened today 🙂
And then, as if to prove that life’s every good joke has to come at a price, traffic was worse than usual going through downtown today.
At one point, an ambulance tried to scream past, but being blocked by 4 lanes of commuter cars, the screaming was reduced to a whimper.
A few blocks later, flashing lights, fire trucks. A body lying on the sidewalk. Paramedics working on him, worried and curious onlookers craning their necks from a respectable distance.
My frustration about the traffic melted into heartbreak. Somewhere a wife was maybe preparing dinner. Children were maybe waiting for their daddy to pick them up from daycare. Somebody hadn’t yet received the worst phone call of their life. And it occurred to me, as it does more often than I should really admit, that every moment could be that moment. Every day could be the day that someone you love just doesn’t come home.
And with that, I closed my eyes again and tried to get lost in the music.