It's been a time of mourning lately, in more ways than one, and I've been mourning the loss of my last car for the past 6 months. I thought I moved past it, but when a trip to the bank and the drug store turns into a day-killer, I get pissed off all over again.
I "lost" my car in a very underhanded, dastardly fashion. I won't get into specifics, but let's just say that if I'd been thinking on my feet, I'd still have it. Since I wasn't, I don't, and it's over and done with. But some days, relying on transit is like trying to schedule winning the lottery. It never works out the way you think it will. For someone like me, who has had a drivers license since the age of 17, and her own car since the age of 24, not having wheels has metaphorically chopped my legs off. I haven't been a transit person since 1992, when I stopped riding the Long Island Railroad. I keep looking for that phantom set of car keys that I think are buried somewhere in my purse. It's hard, and I'm not happy.
Of course, things could be much worse; I literally could not have use of my legs. Thankfully I do, but why is it that every time I stand waiting for the bus (which never runs on time despite my diligence in checking the schedule online before venturing out), I feel as if all the motor vehicles passing me by are mocking me? It's like I'm the only person in the city of Toronto without wheels, and the joke's on me. I know that's not true, but when you're standing at the bus stop like a schmuck, and the bus is 30 minutes late, all manner of crap runs through your mind, and the one thing you're wishing for is: you guessed it - a car!
The transit system in this city is not as good as it used to be, which sort of kills me, since there are only two major subway lines and bus lines on virtually every primary and secondary street in the city. So why did it take me 3 hours to go to the bank and Shoppers Drug Mart yesterday? For starters, I waited a full 30 minutes past the scheduled time for the bus. Second, I had the misfortune of getting the inexperienced teller at the bank, and third, I got "lost" in Shoppers for way longer than I should have. But the cherry on my cupcake was getting kicked off the subway on the way home, one stop from my destination. It was the second time that happened in 2 weeks and I am completely flummoxed by it. No reason given, just, "This train is going out of service." Plus, my fellow docile Torontonians don't even get pissed off. It's the New Yorker who starts mumbling and cursing under her breath; which further proves that I'll never be a true Canadian. I've got too much piss and vinegar for my own good.
In the grand scheme of things, I can more than make do without a car. Will I get another one? Absolutely; hopefully sooner rather than later. Will I ever forgive or forget the circumstances that lead to my "losing" my last car? Not likely. I don't do well with underhanded and dastardly. All I will say is that what goes around comes around, and the persons responsible will receive karmic retribution at some point. And guess who will be laughing her ass off.
Have a great weekend and a Happy Easter.