But I don't have that app that does the shopping, housework, laundry, buys the groceries and cuts the lawn, that's called Girlfriend 1.0 (or, if you've upgraded to the newest version, Wife 6.6.6). So I can't stay off my feet.
Come July 14 (a Saturday) and my weak back that I acquired more than a week back still hurts like hell. If I move too fast or turn the wrong way, the nerves pinch and I start screaming. But I have to go grocery shopping. The only way I can get to town is on the bus.
Called them, they came and got me and I managed to get on and seated. Came time to go home, and I hurt so bad that I did something I've never done in nine and a half years of riding the bus. I asked the driver to lower the ramp so I wouldn't have to climb the steps.
Instead of the ramp, I got a question. "Why?"
WHY?
Because I said so, THAT'S why. I need the ramp, I asked for it, and your job is to lower it so I can get on. Not ask questions. Something like that was I said.
"Well, you didn't need it on the way to town."
This back and forth went on for TWO minutes; me standing on the sidewalk trying not to move too suddenly and scream, and this little black-haired witch insisting that I didn't need the ramp.
FINALLY, she hit the switch.
She's telling me that I can't record video on the bus. Au contraire, Madame . . . it's a public place and I can record all the video I want. Blue Water Transit records every move I make, and every word you say, on video, without your permission. But they don't like it when YOU get out YOUR phone. I just wish I'd hit Record sooner. (BTW: a good way to prevent this is to not pick fights with passengers. Now THERE'S an idea.)
Denying access to public transit to a disabled person, hmmmm . . . even though the disability is temporary, there IS something you can do about that, and I've already done it (bookmark us for updates).
Once, in nine and a half years, I ask for special treatment (the ramp, because I hurt) and instead get an argument. Meanwhile, every gimp and cat lady and autistic and FAT chick who can't move without her scooter continue to be treated like goddam royalty. And this little witch continues to drive. She drove the bus I went home on last week. She might be driving today. OMG, I forgot, it's Friday, the weekend, the days when bullshit like this has a strange way of happening (see our other posts). Well, who knows . . . tomorrow's post might also be public transit related.
And well, too bad that phone calls to the road manager (987-7373, extension 154) now get automatically forwarded to voice mail (the trash). If they were actually answered -- that is, if some meaningful two-way dialog could be opened and maintained -- I wouldn't need Blogspot to get the point across.
And well, there's more video.
The guy in the back seat has decided his opinion matters, and the driver is encouraging his unwanted and unneeded participation in this unnecessary incident. I've seen Fat Boy before. He works at Penney's, and said he knows the road manager and in fact offered to call him (yeah, right, on a Saturday, I'm sure the RM gave him his personal cell phone number). What he needs to do is shut his mouth (and, while he's at it, give the food banks a break by skipping a few meals). Well, on second thought: he does seem to think he knows more about how to drive the bus than the drivers. You know what? Maybe he does!
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