Story nails it

from:		"Matty"
to:		"cj@thiscrazytrain.com"
date:		Wed, Sep 19, 2012 at 9:47 AM
subject:		Holy shitballs

I tend to flip flop between GO Transit and TTC for my workday commute, depending on finances and/or whether my wife needs our car. For all of September, I have blessedly been taking the GO train every day. I swear, the pleasantness of GO in comparison to the TTC is enough to make me find religion (despite my religious references like “holy”, “blessedly”, and “Good Lord” on occasion, I am not a religious person).

However, yesterday I made the stupid fucking decision to take the TTC in to work. I didn’t really need to. I could have taken the train, but I had one token left so I figured I’d use it. I failed to foresee that it would have been my first TTC ride since school resumed (ergo, more students, and more parents who were previously staying home). BIG mistake, Matty, you fucking tool. The commute started off surprisingly fine. The bus to the subway wasn’t overly crowded, but I did notice that it smelled better than usual because teenagers in school seem to pay far more attention to personal hygiene than teens on summer vacation. The subway at Kennedy Station filled up quick but I had a seat, so I didn’t really give a shit. Until I got to Yonge/Bloor station at 8:38am.

I came up the escalator to see a wall of people about 8-deep the entire length of the platform. The TTC PA announcer strangely kept reminding people to use “the entire length of the platform to board”. Clearly, he couldn’t see all the way down. Whether the people where spreading out in hopes of finding a shallow area of the wall to get on a train sooner, or they were actually listening to the PA guy, I have no idea. The wall was solid.

I positioned myself in the “wall o’ commuters” and dutifully waited my turn to get on a train. First train came and went; I moved up a couple of rows in the wall. Second train came and went; I didn’t move much at all. After the third train left, I was now somehow at the front of the wall. I turned around and counted. Napoleon himself would have been proud at the impenetrableness of the 13-person deep wall behind me. It’s possibly important to note here than when a train arrives at Yonge, more people are trying to get on than are trying to get off the train. More, in like a 5:1 ratio. But I digress.

The fourth train came, and the goddamned thing stopped short of where the last train did, so my strategic position of where I anticipated a door being was off by 3 feet. Some dickhead was literally leaning into the crowd forcing his way onto the train. This guy wasn’t fucking around. When he got within 2 feet of the doors, he reached INTO the subway car, grabbed onto something, and pulled/pushed himself and anyone in front of him onto the train. I mean, this isn’t rugby, it’s commuting. Not a sport, last I checked. Alas, I was squeezed out and did not get on the fourth train. It was now 9:02am. The fifth train arrives, and stopped even shorter than the previous train, again by 3 feet, and again I did not get on the train. By now, I was getting pretty fucking pissed off. Finally, on train #6 through Yonge, I was able to get on a subway southbound to my office. I was waiting on that Godforsaken platform for 30 minutes to get a transfer. I could not believe it. I was over 25 minutes late for work.

I reloaded my Presto card at lunch and took the GO home in the evening. I will not take the TTC again unless the LSE line blows up. Even then, I’d have to think about it.