TTC tales

This is just more proof that Toronto is living and permanently anchored in the 1960s-1970s.

I was on the King streetcar at Queen and Roncesvalles when the driver (coming off his shift), lept out of the car, shut the doors, and subsequently shut all the passengers inside without saying he was going to take off. I was going to get off at the next stop, so the thought of standing still and waiting just to ride it up was driving me nuts. I said "Fuck, we can't even get out" after I stepped on the stairs to see if even the doors would open. To my chagrin, they didn't. Another passenger said "I hate it when they do this."

Then I moved to the front to get some other TTC driver's attention to just open the fucking door. And the other passenger started getting really angry, punched his fist through the door, and the window pane just popped right out! Those dinosaurs we call streetcars are made of junk.

Much like most of the art here, I find the transit antiquated. Is conservatism in all forms preventing us from truly progressing like we should? I think so.

Dear Toronto, I love leaving you, and I love coming back. Just as long as I don't have to see you that much. Toronto is like a really bad relationship. Ew.