Good: Sunday mornings I get to sleep in an extra hour.
Great: Yesterday I got to wake up to Ryan in the house, and the coffee was already made.
Greatest: We watched an hour of The (American Version of the) Office, thus making our morning ultra silly.
Acceptable: Then he had to leave to collect his children from another city.
Tolerable: I left soon after he left, and was right on time.
Excellent: The weather changed and I was able to wear my new hoodie without any heat strokes at all.
Fine: I got to the bus stop on time, with minimal sweating. Still in the hoodie.
Ominous: There were many people waiting at the bus stop.
Peculiar: They were all talking to each other.
Upsetting: There was a sign posted over top of the bus schedule saying that our stop was closed.
Relieving: The sign said it was closed from 7am to 9am and it was at least 9:30 when I arrived.
Bad: A guy told me he had been waiting since 9am and there was no bus.
Confusing: The sign also said to catch the bus "after VMP" and nobody knew what that was.
Inconsequential: I decided to phone the Transit Help Line for information.
Dissatisfactory: For some reason my phone got no reception.
Inspired: I tried going on their website via my iPod.
Inadequate: Their website is NOT iPod friendly and I found no information.
Defeated: I texted a guy I work with that "I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT'S UP WITH THE F**KING BUS BUT I MIGHT BE REALLY LATE"
Frustrating: I stood there with like ten other people for like ten other minutes wondering when the bus will come.
Enlightened: It hit me. VMP stands for Veteran's Memorial Parkway. A street. Like five bus stops away.
Exclusionary: I tell one girl beside me where the stop is and start walking, totally ditching everyone else. They were fine though, an octogenarian with a walker was informing them of what to do, as she had been waiting at the next stop down the road for 'quite a spell' before realizing what the sign said.
Unfortunate: I had to take off my hoodie because the sun came out.
Uninteresting: We all had to walk together in a gang of self-righteous bus-pilgrims. People were sharing their worst-bus-experience stories. I stood to the side, not in the mood for talking.
Lame: With all the waiting and walking we missed the last two busses and I made it to work five minutes late. LATE! I'm hardly ever late.
Poor signage: reason number 482 that I hate public transit.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Digame entonces.