A brief rant about a hopeful late-night bus passenger.
“Is this your first time using our service?”
“Umm, twice tops.”
After the hour I arrived, I asked a pedestrian of my whereabouts and if he could direct me to the station I desired to go to. With such an enthusiasm, I assumed the directions he gave me were correct. Yet, among the three to four people that I inquired, each one had contradicting responses.
His bus came a few minutes after we spoke and my bus remained ghost. I waited for half an hour, thinking that downtown busses are often later or not on-time. During that half-an-hour, however, I spotted my bus — 107 — across the street. I thought perhaps they had different routes. That half-an-hour went by and at last — the bus came, on my side of the road.
Overjoyed, but wanting to be sure, I asked the bus driver if this was heading to the Downsview Station. I left as soon as he said, “It should be across the street,” and sprinted to where I stopped. Sick and tired from the day’s activities, I began to hate the words “York University” as busses passed by, glowing that name.
I thought to myself that I was not giving up. A bus is going to come. I know it.
Half an hour passed by. Minute after minute. I had never seen so many trucks in my life. I had counted perhaps ten in the minute I stood there waiting for the bus. Wanting to be at the meeting. Just to finally see a familiar face. To sit down, talk, be spiritually enriched and socialize. And go home.
But there I was, standing, looking out the distance to see if a bus, with 107 glowing out its banner would come by. I will ask the bus driver if it was going down Downsview Station and hoping that he will nod.
I walked back and forth. Creating circles on the ground with my feet. Pouting. Bus passengers looking at me from each bus that had passed by. Bus drivers looked out to see what I was waiting for. Who this young woman is and why she is standing out at the street late at night.
But a person can wait for so long. I was coughing harder and harder by the minute. I felt the wind breezing through my skin as I was contemplating. Contemplating whether I should remain hopeful or to walk away and leave that bus stop to walk across the street — where I would take the GO bus back home.
“If in the next ten minutes a 107 bus doesn’t appear, I will walk forward.”
It was ten on a Friday night. Another GO bus heading to York University came by and of course, now, I did not hesitate to walk away from that bus stop. My irritation only grew stronger as the minutes passed by and more city busses glowed the name ‘York University’. I decided to sit at the bus stop seats and calm myself down. I began gazing from a distance; watching small cars, trucks, and city busses passing by.
“Wow, this city has a lot of trucks.”
I shut my eyes for a few seconds, perceiving the peace that had come into me, knowing that I was not going to be bothered by watching out for another 107. I continued coughing.
I opened my eyes, slowly, as I saw a bus glowing the numbers ‘107’ drove past the bus stop where I had waited.
It finally came, the minute I sat on the other side of the road.
Yet, I thought of nothing but bliss; and told myself that I was going home.
I was going home and I was going to tell this story. To my fellow phone-less, hopeless, adventurers lost in a foreign city. To students heading home late at night or hopefuls trying to reach the meeting starting in twenty minutes. To students reaching an overnight shift or gathering or need to be somewhere at night. Car-less, low in funding and clueless of the area. This is for you — future adventure seekers, students, and workers. Ensure that you prepare your trip way in advance. Ensure you have plenty of time to have yourself lost, trying to wait for a bus that arrives on half-an-hour to an hour intervals. Make sure you inform whomever you are to be acquainted with — make sure they are aware. Make sure of everything in advance before heading to a foreign area all by yourself at night, where guidance will be limited.
Because tonight was not a pleasant surprise; and I lost approximately $20 and five hours of roaming around a city doing nothing but stressing over whether I would make that youth gathering.
Photo credits to Flickr user calaveth.