With the strike over and the buses slowly being put back on the roads to resume their less-than-stellar service, I can finally resume my ridership on the ornery stinkhorse that is OC Transpo.
I’ve been taking the bus since I was 16 or so, which means I’ve been using our public transportation for a potentially embarrassing 12 years. In this time, I’ve watched as the price of the service grew inverse to the quality of service. It’s really quite fascinating! I remember when the buses would arrive on schedule, and sometimes even stopped for their potential riders to embark! These were the halcyon days, when the drivers would look at you and your bus pass didn’t cost more than constructing a personal hand-glider system that would allow you to survey the city from on high, waiting for crime to rear its terrible head.
But whatever! After striking for 52 days during the coldest winter in hyperbole years, OC Transpo is now back on the snowy streets of Ottawa (in a limited way) much to the delight of their mostly frozen and dead patrons. I know I’ve still got some crumpled bus tickets sitting in my wallet, just waiting to be thrown into a metal box with a nod and a smile to an emotionless driver who stares straight ahead at the road, trying to avoid acknowledging anyone or anything outside of the miserable route they’ll be circling for the next 7 hours like a heroin-addicted rat in a science maze. When they get home, they can relax by putting a pillowcase over a child’s head and beating that child with a bag of Valencia oranges that they were able to purchase on their ridiculously generous salary.
This is how OC Transpo drivers make orange juice and why it always tastes a little like the tears of a child.
I <3 you OC Transpo, welcome back.
In other “news,” I reviewed Disney’s Aladdin for the SNES:
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