We’ve taken it on the chin, repeatedly, when you strike at your leisure. And in an-ever-passive-Canadian-way, we patiently wait through endless service delays and disruptions. The mess that is Queen Street right now, ripped up and overturned with streetcar track renovations, is taking me on the scenic route as of late, with the route diverted reasonably. Fair enough.
The mean drivers however? Not so reasonable.
Me, the other day – work burnt, heat stroked and gym bound: “Hi [yes, chirpy tone and smile], do you go to Pape?”
Driver, with apparent chip on his shoulder: “No”.
I look up at the route sign on his fancy streetcar, “You’re going east though? Are you short turning”.
His second terse response made me rage. In an instant. Me, red-faced, voice-raised: “This is a really fun guessing game. Can you please tell me where you’re going, explain the route? Want a chalk board, draw me a little something?”
He rolled his eyes with such intensity that I was sure he was having a stroke. After that, he pulled it together and explained his detour.
It took me the entire duration of my ride (an epic haul, given said stupid detour) to calm down. And then some. I’m waiting for the evidence to materialize but I’m sure this experience gave me either a gray hair, or shaved a few hours off my life. It’s there a meanie-quota mandate at the T.C.C.? Shouldn’t all of their drivers be really happy and satisfied, in light of their wants being met through strikes? Gosh, I mean, what else could you possibly want for? [Wait…I bet I’ll find out soon, when you strike. Again].
T.T.C. – I can appreciate that many of your roles require the skill to operate heavy machinery. Some roles, however, necessitate interacting with the public. Hiring accordingly, please.