I’ve written several posts under the category of THE JOYS OF COMMUTING. There’s a post of the so-called “Quiet Car Police.” And who doesn’t love the story about The Sesame Bagel Lady.
Today, I figured, what better time than the present to add another post?
Like many, I’ve been commuting to and from downtown Chicago for work for decades. In fact, it’s been over 40 years for me.
Yikes!
As commuters, we face vehicle traffic, train delays, school zones (darn those 20MPH speed limits!), pedestrians, spilled coffee, rain… sleet… and snow.
Yes, especially in April, Chicago seems to get its snow. Just enough to make things sloppy. And a bit slippery.
This morning’s commute doesn’t have anything unique about it. In fact, as I told my co-worker, it was rather a typical commute, as I started my day by pressing the SNOOZE button once too many times. I overslept by a good 20 minutes; but not to worry, I know how to make it work in the morning.
That doesn’t mean I relish the weekday (a/k/a workday) mornings. The coffee button is the second thing I hit after the SNOOZE button.
Hot and black is the way I like it.
While the java brews, I take a look in the bathroom mirror. Things have certainly changed in the last 40 years.
I slather on the SPF lotion, curl the lashes and check my eyebrows. Nothing too fancy for work. Besides, most of it will disappear from my face as the weather kicks in and I get a free facial from the spitting rain, car fumes, and the like.
Later, I throw my brown bag lunch into my backpack: turkey burger from last Saturday (it’s still good, right?), mandarin oranges, blackberries and rice pudding for an afternoon treat.
TIME TO HEAD OUT
As I step into the cold garage and raise the door, I can finally see the full extent of the morning weather. Not too cold, but wet from overnight rain mixed with snow.
It’s garbage day and the crew already swung by at 5:55AM for its pick up. The garbage and recycling cans are on their sides in the driveway. Usually, my husband takes care of this chore, except today he’s home with a slight fever. No worries. There’s still plenty of time for me to drag them all into the garage before I head to the Metra train station.
The rote day begins as I drive to the station and park in my favorite slot. Alighting from my vehicle, I grab my backpack (heavy with laptop and lunch), along with my trusty cane (still recovering from knee replacement). My hand digs into the right pocket, ensuring my folded dollar bill and quarter are there to pay for the daily parking space. It’s all good and ready.
By this time, I’m feeling pretty good, since I recently discovered an “express” train to Chicago’s Union station. Taking this train grants me an extra 25 minutes at home to slurp my coffee, watching WGN Channel 9 news and generally put off facing my day.
Except this so-called express train usually misses its titular mark. Our train is outranked by Amtrak trains and freight trains. Today seems to be one of those days, with two interruptions of both Amtrak and a coal train taking precedence over ours.
Bummer.
Luckily, our cheerful conductor doesn’t seem to let interruptions phase him. In fact, he presents his passengers with a joke of the day, told over the train’s PARK system:
What’s the difference between a hippo and a zippo?
ANSWER:
One’s a little heavy.
And one’s a little lighter.
ARRIVING DOWNTOWN
We pull into Union station about 10 minutes late. Which means I missed my shuttle bus to the office. I check the time to see if perhaps I can grab a Dunkin’ black coffee before the next shuttle (please, no judging on the number of cups I’ve had!).
However, at this point in time, I realize I must have left my hat on the train. Do I go back and look for it? YES! After all, it’s my favorite hat — a hand-knit beret that I picked up at a craft fair. Plus, it really belongs to my daughter, so that clinches the decision.
The conductors are shutting down the train by this time, but they graciously allow me back onto the car so I can retrieve my hat.
There it is, on the floor underneath my seat. I use my trust cane to grab it and I immediately put it on my head and continue on my way. A girl’s gotta get to work!
By now, I’m doing a run-walk with my cane. Quickly, I check out Dunkin’ Donuts at the train station, except the line is super long, and it’s now going on 8:45 AM. Time to get a move on. I ditch the idea of waiting for the next shuttle at 9AM. Instead, I hop on the CTA 156 LaSalle, which will bring me within one block of my office.
“Good Morning,” I say to the bus driver. She doesn’t respond. Yes, she’s that one that doesn’t speak to passengers. Quite out of the norm, since most drivers are usually cheerful.
I take my seat near the front (mind you, the trusty cane comes in handy) and dump my heavy backpack on the empty seat beside me. Next stop, a gentleman boards the bus and sits directly across from me. I avoid all eye contact with him and the other commuters. This is an unwritten rule in the city. Especially on public transportation.
The same gentleman de-boards after two blocks. And I have to say I’m glad. Since it had been days since he showered. Oh dear. I pull my scarf around my face and take shallow breaths.
NEARLY THERE
My stop comes up in the next few minutes, and I alight from the bus. Ms. Unhappy Bus Driver does not lower the step for me. I do my best “jump” onto the sidewalk and catch myself with trusty cane. What fun.
One block to go to get to my building. Except I slip on the wet sidewalk while waiting for a red light. I didn’t fall, so all is well.
Finally I’m in the elevator. The news display reads the time as 9:08AM. Only 8 minutes late. Not bad.
I almost collide with a fellow employee as I exit the elevator.
“Good Morning,” he bellows.
“Oh, hi to you too,” I say.
I walk the last 50 steps to my desk. Stash trusty cane against the desk and drop my backpack on the floor.
“I’m here!” I tell no one in particular.
No one looks. They are all buried in their own busy schedules. Reading e-mails. On Teams meetings. Drinking Dunkin’ coffee.
And that, dear friends, is what I’ve been doing the last 40 plus years.
All before 9:10 in the morning.
Bonus Joke For My Readers:
Thank you for reading – PIZZA FOR BREAKFAST
PIZZA FOR BREAKFAST 