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Shuttle Rage

You know that slow burn of frustration that begins when you’ve been waiting patiently for the mystical 501 shuttle bus to appear out of the ether, and then it builds to a smouldering anger as you watch 8 Victoria Park buses pass you by (literally one behind the other) because they don’t get you where you need to go (unless you’re willing to do the transfer dance again) and when your bus finally shows up, it’s so crammed with angry, hot passengers (because of course there’s no air conditioning and the windows that are cracked open a millimetre are too hard to reach without stepping on someone’s lap) that you’re all feeding off each other’s energy, which comes to a head when one of the passengers starts getting up in the driver’s grille about the ridiculous wait times? I suggest getting off a stop or two early, rerouting your walk in the direction of the beach, and taking a moment or twenty-five to enjoy the sights and sounds of people making the most of a warm, sunny afternoon – whether they’re watching their kids play with reckless abandon, huffing and puffing along the boardwalk in an effort to multi-task exercise and meditation, or just doing some spring cleaning around the property, throwing envious glances at the little black cat curled up on the steps in a state of blissful unconsciousness, surrounded by blooming, beautifully scented plants – all while planning out the strongly worded letter and diagram you intend to send to the TTC about how to properly retrieve their heads from their asses and schedule the shuttles so the masses don’t revolt.  ;p

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