#14 / Public transit foes and fumbles
I enjoy bouts of GO-training between bouts of driving to work, and I’m on a GO train kick right now. GO-training is less eventful, usually, except for this morning because the GO train honked on its way into the station.
This was the first time I’ve heard it honk, and it honked at me
I was following yellow-line protocol perfectly. The toes of my sneakers were behind the yellow line. My backpack was on the pavement between my feet. I was checking my phone to see when the train was going to arrive and quite suddenly it was approaching just to my left. I bent over rather quickly to grab my backpack, and that’s when I got honked at.
Unlike the TTC, there are no signs on the GO system that say MIND THE GAP because there is no gap. The train’s smackdabrightthere and depending upon the length of your torso – and mine’s a long one, as determined in jumpsuit blog(s) – bending over is not recommended, and a 90 degree bend is super not recommended, but admirable nonetheless, I think.
I guess I surprised the driver a little – which was 100% mutual – and I got honked at, aka publicly shamed, although in this particular case, most of the public were already at work, the show-offs
So for your safety and mine, and for the sake of the train driver’s nerves, take note that the yellow line is for when you’re standing up straight.
I did break a different yellow-line rule today but what’s a girl to do (and don’t say leave the house earlier) when all the parking spots are taken except the very small ones on the edges with multiple yellow lines painted through them?
musical interude (don’t know why autocorrect didn’t catch that one)
Right now, as in this very keystroke, and these ones, I am on the train home.
You bet I stayed behind the yellow line and then some. I didn’t even slouch.
I got on a completely different end of the train for the first time ever, and far more casually than usual, because I know I’m not even going to try for a quick exit. The area of the parking lot where I perched my car is unfamiliar to me, and I am not privy to its secrets. I will have to take my turn just like other mortals. I will have to wait in line behind countless cars because the parking lot has only one tiny entrance and one tiny exit. Also I am sluggish and a little dissappointed-in-advance because of the parking ticket I might have.
Normally, I am not sluggish while on the train. I am the opposite. I am alert and busy assessing my competitors who don’t even know it’s a competition. Which certainly gives me a leg up.
I belong to the GO Train Running Club, which is not a real club. It is a secret club that nobody but me knows about. We are a brother- and sisterhood of mostly sneaker-wearing, back-pack hauling refusers-to-wait-in-line-to-get-out-of-the-parking-lot types. We race out of our respective doors, sprint to our strategically parked cars, bomb through the parking lot and together, we are the first heat out, often – depending on footwear – with yours truly at the helm.