Hidy ho, Ms. Cindy!
Billy Bob here in St. Catharines. Remember, me? I’m stittin’ at the kitchen table at 2:30 in the AM writin’ this letter, cuz I ain’t been getting’ much sleep lately. Truth be told, I ain’t been gettin’ much of anything these days. You see, my missus, Daisy May has been madder than a wet hornet ever since she read about them drivers leaving you shiverin’ in the early mornin’ at your bus stop. And when my Daisy May ain’t happy, well, you know the rest.
Now, the missus ‘n’ me, we likes ridin’ them GO buses too (not the DD’s though), especially when we gotta head into Hogtown for our appointments with specialist doctors ‘n’ such (cuz we’re gettin’ older, eh). When we ride, we always brings our driver somethin’ from Timmy’s. Well, those drivers are so nice ‘n’ happy to see us. Now, where I was goin’ with this is, like on your 90A, buses on our Route 12 don’t always show up when our schedule says they oughta. But them drivers are so apologetic, and they explain exactly what buggered up the trip.
Now, Daisy May tells me the driver you ain’t seein’ eye to eye with is havin’ some troubles stayin’ true to her paddle. After listenin’ to our drivers, I got to thinkin’ that hittin’ them paddle times is kinda like playin’ horseshoes – close counts. There’s way too many things that can hose a trip, like crap weather, traffic ain’t flowin’ like it oughta, the driver had to sell a ton of tickets, a WMA passenger was helped to board the bus, the dang PRESTO terminal printer jammed over ‘n’ over, riders brought more luggage than Mrs. Howell on Gilligan's Island (remember her?), there was too many bicycles for the racks, pax had hosed or busted PRESTO cards, riders was clueless about where they was headin’, the PRESTO trip setup misbehaved, etc. (Did I mention PRESTO more than once? Hmmm ...)
Now, you’re gonna say, “Them things don’t happen every trip!” Yup. You’re right. So, what’s goin’ on? The scuttlebutt with the drivers down here is that part of all that newfangled electronic gear on buses is the CAD/AVL, which tracks exactly where a bus is at any time. Cool, eh? So, why can’t them whippersnappers in Operations tell you what’s shakin’ on 90A while you’re shiverin’ in a shelter on the side of the road? Now if it were me workin’ for GO Transit as a supervisor, I’d do it old school – hop in my Ford pickup and follow that bus to figure out what’s happenin’. In the old days we used to call it “root cause analysis”. Does anyone do that anymore?
I don’t know what else I can offer to help, Ms. Cindy. Daisy May says maybe you could bake your driver one of your world famous cakes, or pies, or somethin’. I mean, our drivers gush over Timmy’s grub, and that ain’t nothin’ like what you or my missus can whip up. Just sayin’.
I hope y’all can work out things up there. It would sure make Daisy May happy, and I won’t be sittin’ at the kitchen table at 2:30 in the mornin’ no more.
Best wishes from the other side of the lake,
Billy Bob
2 comments:
Sorry, but when somebody brings me treats at work, I toss them in the bin. You don't know what condition those treats were prepared in, and you don't know what ingredients were added to the treat.
That sweet lady could have 20 cats crawling around her house and on her kitchen counter, and that sweet guy could have spiked that cup of coffee. I'm sure that piece of rum cake tastes really nice, until customers smell it on your breath and call in a complaint to the cops that you are drinking on the job.
Unless that person is related to you, or a good friend that you knew before getting the job, or a significant other, no treats shall be accepted.
It's really hard to say no thanks for the treats to someone, and it feels really bad to do it, but it's better than going two months of throwing out the daily coffee of a regular customer.
^ Very true ...
Thank you for your insight.
Unless it's a wrapped box of chocolates, I guess.
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