Sunday, August 10, 2014

i love you, but...

Oh Toronto, I love you. But, riding the subway is like a preview of hell. Full disclosure, this happened to me on Thursday.


Eric Tussler, 1966. via Toronto City Archives
I should have known that the ride would be hellish when I sat down beside a dozy middle-aged woman playing Candy Crush at the very back of the car. Quietly enough I sat down and guffawed over Me Talk Pretty One Day (David Sedaris-you are a genius), and an announcement is made. When I am trapped in a steel tube underground, I want to hear the damn announcement. 

ARE YOU LISTENING, TTC? TURN THE DAMN SPEAKERS UP. UP! TURN THEM UP! No one has EVER heard an announcement made while the subway is moving. NO. ONE. Passenger Emergency. Signal errors. Holding here. Perfect.

I will say that I am fairly content to keep reading, but I at this point I am struggling with the fear that I'll finish the book before the train lurches onward. Four eastern-European women (it doesn't matter, but it also kind of does), obviously tourists as demonstrated by their head-to-toe waterproof safari gear and zealous use of all safety straps on their backpacks-get on the train clutching their fanny packs and those funny wallet-necklaces. That was a fun distraction. One of them looked me in the eyes, reached under her shirt and unzipped an under-your-clothes moneybelt to produce tour packages for Niagara Falls. 

What should have been a 20 minute commute more than doubled to just under an hour. During which time, I read the back of the tour package, learned that the under-the-clothes money belt lady thought I was a real threat of mugging her and had comically poor balance. 

Fast-forward to finally getting off the train, the wind caught my dress and blew the skirt up. All the way up. I growl and stomp onward to my office. I wish this wasn't an almost daily occurrence, but it is. I just don't know that there is a future for me and skirts, the relationship is just too precarious.

How do people wear skirts and dresses when it is windy? How do fancy ladies do it?

Does anyone have a trick? Do I just need to resign myself to pants? Things are getting weird, send help. 

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