Grief Griefing!

The ride home earlier today was weird. I guess that’s the best way to describe it. Well, it started out innocently enough. The E came right away, it was one of the new trains, and I got a seat. It was a wonderful surprise; the train portion of the commute was actually quite tolerable. But then when I boarded the Q46, the most bizarre thing took place. After the bus filled up with passengers, nothing happened. Nothing at all. We were just waiting there, standing, holding onto the handlebars, expecting to depart. But we didn’t. Finally, I noticed a commotion and saw several people leaving the bus. They seemed to be muttering something about a mechanical problem. Seeing that we weren’t going anywhere, I too exited. That’s when I noticed a peculiar void: the bus driver was nowhere to be seen. Indeed, the driver who was there when we boarded had disappeared. He simply got off the bus without making any announcements. The next problem was the fact that I had already used up my free transfer when I swiped my metrocard getting onto the bus, and there was no one to give me a transfer card. So when getting onto the next bus, I explained the situation to that driver, who appeared to be a long-time bus driver (judging from his apparent advanced age). He was very nice and politely replied “Sure,” but he also was surprised at the story. He said, “Really? Wow. Huh.” This old timer had thought he’d seen it all before. Ha! Until you ride with me, there will always be something you’ve never witnessed.

Some people are incapable of securing employment on the basis of their credentials. However, if they reside in the United States and happen to be from one of the so-called “protected classes,” they need not worry. They’ll land the position while someone more qualified will not. This, my friends, is equality in modern-day America. We are so lucky to live in such a charitable land, where wonderful initiatives such as reverse discrimination prevail over silly, insignificant things like “fairness” and “justness.” This morning on the Q46, I witnessed this first-hand. You know that white line in the front of the bus? I was standing with my foot on it, so the front of my right shoe was about an inch on the other side of the line. The driver – a black woman – turned to me, and said (with some serious attitude), “You gotta get behind that line.” Of course, I complied immediately without saying a word. She seemed noticeably disappointed. She was in the mood for a confrontation, and she tried her utmost to instigate. To her dismay, the white guy didn’t cooperate. Technically, it is against the rule to stand over the white line. And, yes, I suppose that technically I did just that. After all, my toes are indeed part of my feet. But come on already! People like this shouldn’t have jobs. Let them go back to the jungle and swing from trees or something. Ordinary human beings should not have to suffer just because their great-great grandparents picked cotton for some rich white dude in Alabama.

Boy, I need to get in shape. Today I spotted the Q46 from a couple of blocks away, and I made a run for it. I must say that I moved very swiftly – I even caught the bus from behind – but “ouch.” Very ouch. It’s a good thing that I got a seat on the bus, because for the next four minutes I was gasping for air. I’m not sure which was worse: the pain associated with not being able to breathe, or the realization that I am severely out of shape. Both are certainly true.

Some people enjoy hearing themselves speak. They like the way their voice sounds. City buses are equipped with a sort of intercom system, where the driver is able to make an announcement over the hand-held phone-shaped loudspeaker. They rarely utilize this system because it’s pointless. Well, today on the Q46, the driver was all over it. After picking us up from the corner of Union and Main, he reached for that piece with an enthusiasm I have rarely seen, and declared, “The time is now 7:31. Queens Boulevard will the next and final stop, transfer available to the E and F trains, and several Queens bus lines.” He put down the phone and I thought that was it. I was wrong. A minute later he picked it up again and announced, “The time is now 7:32. Thank you for riding the MTA. Wishin’ you all a wonderful day, a good and a blessed one.” I think that as a child, this dude had hopes of one day becoming a motivational speaker, or at least a professional voice-over guy. But, alas, life can be cruel sometimes, and his dreams were crushed, forcing him to settle for a position as bus operator. I bet he doesn’t view himself as a bus driver; he probably sees himself as an orator who happens to drive a bus while he preaches.

Today I did something that I have witnessed on numerous occasions, but never had actually done myself. Since today has been designated by the U.S. government (due to fear of rioting in communities of a certain color) as a national holiday, mass transit was running on a holiday schedule. As a result, there were far fewer buses running this morning than usual. After waiting for what seemed forever, a Q46 finally arrived. It was, of course, incredibly packed. In fact, the driver didn’t open the front door, because there was no room for any more passengers. He did, however, have to open the rear door to let off the 1 or 2 passengers who were exiting. Then I pounced. I, followed by 6 other anxious New Yorkers, barged my way onto the bus through the open back door. It’s a good thing there wasn’t any traffic, which enabled us to get to the subway station quickly, because it was difficult to breathe.

On the Q46 this morning, after several unsuccessful metrocard swipes, the guy right before me proceeded to walk toward the back of the bus. Then the following exchange took place: Driver: Where do you think you’re going? Rider: I’m taking the subway anyway, so I’ll pay there. Driver: If you ask me and I say yes, that’s one thing – but don’t think you can just do that. Rider: Can I go? Driver: Yes. Kudos to that bus driver! You tell that jerk! (Sigh…New Yorkers…)

That was an awesome ride. The Q46 came right away, and I was the last passenger to board the bus – and therefore the first one off. Union Turnpike was empty, so we got to the subway station in excellent time. And then (drum roll please…) I HAD MY CHOICE OF SEATS ON THE E TRAIN! YEAH!!!!! That’s what I’m TALKING about! Naturally I avoided the window seat, so I put my head back against the wall. The ride itself was fast too. Overall grade: A+

That angel from last week is still singing. Today’s wait for the bus was a little annoying. Before the first Q46 arrived, four express buses came and went. But once I got to the subway, I only had to stand for one stop. That’s when I heard the music from heaven. That seat opened up, and bam! - I pounced on it like a vulture on flesh. Overall grade: A-