Traffic in LA is a constant. Regardless of the time of day, a succession of stories could be told of shit traffic. Now we have the added ingredient of $4.50/gallon gas. Once that hit (and it hit fast, because that is how oil companies work) there was talk...but that was it. Summer of 2008, the last time prices hit this level, citizens of LA would hold signs blaming the president, and occasionally attacking the help. This time? Seems to be a weary sigh...maybe it's because those protesting now all own a Prius, I don't know. (Fuck, I DO know, and if you can read between the lines, you'll know too)
Mentally, I had passed a threshold. $4.25 is too much already, but more than I'd be willing to pay. Last time, I lived a mile from work, so it didn't really matter. But this time? I was willing to put my life in someone's hands: the Big Blue Bus.
While public transportation continues to be an afterthought in LA, I wanted it to become my routine. I was fortunate enough to realize there was a route that was my exact drive to work. How lucky is that? So what if the buses only show up every 20 minutes?
The first week was one of adjustment. I had to accept things that other riders have likely known for years. The bus will often be late. It also might be early, and if it is, you're fucked. It will stop for no one unless you make a scene. The driver will be polite and full of excuses when asked a question. But when I made it home last Friday, I was a happy man. I had gone almost a week without driving and was still able to get shit done. I also wanted to be smug...and maybe I crossed that line. During the weekend, Dr. Gold and I realized we could take the same bus to a golf course, play, get drunk, then take the same bus home. We celebrated the future.
I should have known better. I was just lucky, that's all. And all it took was one fucking day.
Maybe it was when I realized that I would have already arrived at work and yet I was still waiting for a very late bus. Or was it the guy on the bus who put his bag on another chair to prevent an old lady from sitting down. No, I think it was another late bus home, in cold (for here) weather...and after 40 minutes 2 of the same line drive next to each other.
Trip: Is that another #5 bus behind you? (Of course it is...I just want to hear what he'll say)
Driver: Yeah...bad traffic on Olympic.
Trip, calling bluff: We're on Colorado.
Driver: (sigh)
No, Mr. Driver, you don't have all the answers. But you do have one that you won't tell. And now I am pretty fucking SALTY. Again, I could have been home drinking rum and eating Jalapeno chips. What's the solution here?
Well, the public transit solution that the mayor pushes so often has one fatal flaw: a majority of the transportation has to co-exist with the same traffic people are trying to avoid. There's no subway line near you? Sorry, the city council in the '90s didn't want their neighborhood bothered with all that construction. Right before the public voted them out, they voted for more buses. Problem "solved" I suppose.
Pay through the ass, or lose up to 1 hour and 30 minutes of your day. Um...no?
