Bus Stop

Three days -- that's the longest I've ever gone without posting anything.  I had no idea what I was getting myself into when I made the decision to stop borrowing people's cars or bumming rides from them, and instead to use Jackson's bus pass while I waited for Steve, my lovable, disorganized hermit/mechanic, to fix my car.  (Something about struts leaking. Took him 12 days.  At least I got to spend five of them in New Orleans).

Who needs to plan a five-mile walk when you don't have a car?  I know I've put in that, and more, every day for the last three days, all of them in regular shoes.  Sunday was a particular nightmare of transfers, miles-long walks in a residential neighborhood and to the next stop.  I got two huge blisters (at least they were water, not blood blisters) on the pads of my feet.  Yesterday I had one meeting far south, all the way to Slaughter, walked a half mile to what I thought was my destination, could not find the office I was supposed to be at, my phone was dying and I wandered for a half hour throughout a busy commercial district.  Then back to the bus stop, take another two trips with sizeable walks between transfers to get to the Chase bank building at Capital Plaze for yet another meeting., which lasted SEVEN HOURS!  The highlight of the meeting was getting a cheerful text from Steve announcing that my car was ready.  This meeting was supposed to be over by 5:30.  Lynn had graciously planned to pick me up and take me to Bastrop.  She waited in the parking lot for three hours.  I owe her.

What did I learn from all this?  Several things.  Life without a car is tough. There is nothing more undignified than running for a bus. You can overhear some hilarious conversations.  The concept of men offering their seats to woman on a packed bus has disapppeared.

But you know what?  It was also very cool, in a way.  If I didn't have a job that required a car, I would seriously ride the bus to work, at least some of the time.  I liked how un-sedentary I felt, I liked knowing I wasn't contributing to the crap in the air, I liked the camaraderie I felt with some of the chattier riders.  I just liked not feeling tethered to a car.  I liked getting my walking in naturally.

I also realized how much I love my car, my nine-year-old, seen-better-days Prius.  It had been feeling a little rickety, but now feels smooth and sturdy.  Thanks, Steve.  For the good work, AND for the fun (in retrospect) experience.