Switch and Bait

Today I went canoeing. I met my friend Fred at Finch Station, and when we were done he dropped me off at Finch Station.

Subway to Bloor & Yonge; subway to Kipling.

Up the stairs to the bus terminus, recall that the 49 Bloor bus no longer parks HERE; it parks THERE about 3 buses further along.

No bus present, so I sit on a bench and wait.

Head in book.

Bus rolls up; I climb aboard.

Head in book.

Bus starts off, up Auckland Drive.

I become aware of pressure in my bum as we turn sharply to the right.

Why are we turning to the right?

Well, the 49 Bloor West now shares a bus bay with the 30 Lambton donchaknow. And yes, I probably should have known that and checked the bus.

But in my 30th year of climbing aboard the 49 Bloor West, when it’s been the only bus in the bay, comes naturally to me now.

So the driver lets me off on Dundas Street to catch the next bus back to the subway station.

Which 30 Lambton Westbound bus does arrive.

I present my transfer ticket stamped “FINCH Station” at 3:30 PM.

Without letting me explain, the drive snatches the transfer from my hand and exclaims in a loud voice “This is over three hours old”. No question about why someone with a FINCH transfer is climbing aboard at Dundas West and Royal Avon Crescent.

I protest it isn’t three hours old, that it’s not yet five o’clock. Ninety minutes at most.

NOW the question why Finch.

I explain about the bus-bay allocations changing, getting on the wrong bus etc.

Nope. I’m already marked down as a fare-evader.

A 65-year old fare evader in conservative casual clothes reading a book.

See ‘em all the time.

The message is clear: I am the enemy and the problem is me. Single-handedly by my actions I could bring down the entire TTC civilization as we know it were it not for the zealous close-mindedness of the bus drivers of this city.

I’m tired, pissed off, and want to get home. I know that the extra trip out and back will have cost me TWO Bloor buses and so I’m triply pissed.

So I raise my voice as I protest and the driver backs down.

He is horribly in the wrong.

We all have cell phones and they all say 4:55 p.m..

I have the transfer and it says 3:30 p.m.

I sit down, whip out my cell-phone and leave myself a message on my home phone with the time of day and the bus number .

The TTC wants to wage war on pensioners.

So be it.

I am capable of retaliating.

Especially against brain-dead bus drivers.