Sometimes You Just Miss The Bus.........................
Ever since I was a little kid, I’ve been learning some valuable lessons in life. Sometimes you don’t always get all the toys you want for Christmas, but what you get, should always be enough. Not everyone gets to fuck the Prom Queen, I myself was 0-3. And sometimes, just sometimes, you down and out miss the bus. It happens, handle it. Meaning, get over it, and get over yourself. For the record, both my contractual agreement and my ethical obligation begins and ends with those who are diligent enough to be waiting patiently for me to arrive at the bus stop, those who are there when they are supposed to be, regardless of whether I’m three minutes early, or nine minutes late, and those who made damn sure to value not only my time, but the time of everyone else who shared that same level of respect to keep things moving expeditiously. Buses don’t wait for people, people wait for buses. It couldn’t be any easier to explain. And who the hell are these people anyway? The only word that comes to mind is audacity. The sense of self entitlement is through the roof. Let’s hold up the entire city, because you HAD to catch the end of Desperate Housewife’s, and now you HAVE to catch THIS bus, not the NEXT one. Here’s something for you to think about; I would like to have two fully functional and healthy Achilles tendons, I would like to be six foot four, and I would love a much greater endowment. Do you see me standing on the other side of the street, jumping up and down yelling about it? Do you see me running from a block and a half away waving my arms in the air making a big spectacle of myself? Or calling some phone number to cry about it to someone who gets paid to answer phones, but clearly doesn’t care? No, you don’t. You see me, limping down the street, in my five foot ten frame, with all my average-ness tucked neatly in my pants. Just trucking along, dancing with what I brought to the ball. This is what you should be doing too. Utter to yourself a quick “that sucks”, which, believe me, I do on a regular basis, and get over it, you conceited prick. Your late, not my fault, yours. Not the guy working at Tim Horton’s’ fault, yours. Not whoever called, and you had to answer before you left the house, yours! Deal with it. Now I know what you’re going to say. Because you missed the bus, now you’re going to be late for work, and probably receive some level of disciplinary action resulting from it. My friend that is basic having a job 101. Ensure that you have plenty of time to get to work, so as to allow you to be able to overcome circumstances that are out of your control. Especially if you rely on someone else to get you there. I drive myself to work. On an average day, it takes me 30 minutes, door to door. Does that mean that every day I leave the house exactly 30 minutes before I’m supposed to start? No. Because I understand that there are elements out there more powerful than I am, as hard as that is too believe. I know that the highway can turn into a parking lot on a whim. Or when I stop for coffee there could be a line up out the door. Or the weather will somehow become the unseen vehicle on the road and cause me a world of problems, which will slow me down. I take all these things into consideration every day, and adjust my time accordingly, AND I DRIVE MYSELF!!! You depend on someone else to get you too work and you don’t allow for considerations? I’m sorry your highness, tell your boss it was all my fault, I bet he cares. Real quickly, let’s do a little simple math together. Let us assume, for the ease of calculation that an average light is one minute long. And let us assume that the next bus is 10 minutes behind me. Both numbers are probably off, but for the sake of simplicity we will use them as our factors. I’m at the stop, loading, off-loading, what have you, and there are 43 people already on my bus, so I’m not quite full but close. Again, not real numbers, just basic addition, you’ll understand in a moment. Here you are, in all your mighty-ness, on the other side of the street, and you’re in a hurry, for whatever reason that may be. You expect me to wait the one minute for the light to change, so you can cross, board my bus, and thus avoiding a 10 minute wait for the next bus, because where ever you need to be, you need to be there rapidly, and that 10 minutes is just too damn long of a wait. But what about the one minute that the 43 people on the bus now have to wait, in addition to myself, who, in all honesty, has more people waiting on me than you could possibly ever imagine. That’s 44 minutes of total lost time for us collectively, all so you don’t have wait 10 minutes. That’s a swing of minus 34 minutes, because you’re a slow moving douchebag. That seem reasonable to you? That doesn’t even factor in the traffic that we are holding up, or the however many people up the street or at the subway station that all need to wait that additional minute all on the strength of your self importunateness. So I ask the question again, who the hell is this guy, that the whole city should stand still for, all for the sake of his time? Obviously he’s terribly important, and his lost time as a fraction of our lost time is way more substantial. Guess I’ll wait. Guess we will all wait. Yeah right, let me know how that works out for you late boy. Oh, and do me a favour, don’t bother calling in to complain either, that’s just pathetically sad. The truth of the matter is you’re calling someone to say that you screwed up, and didn’t make it on time, regardless of the spin you put on it too make it my fault. And I assure you, the lady at the customer service desk cares even less than the 43 people on my bus plus I do. She’s going to tell you what you want to hear, stroke you a little and hang up, and when she does hang up, she’s going to think to herself, damn, that guy must have always got every toy he wanted for Christmas, he most assuredly fucked the Prom Queen, but in the end, he just down and out missed the bus, and then she will laugh……….Uncontrollably........................