Note: My shitty day in 1100+ words.
It began quite like any other Friday with my morning spent volunteering at Banting and Best. On Fridays I have the grade 7s and 8s and they’re normally a really pleasant group, and today was no real exception. The teacher I’m partnered up with is Mrs. Lee and she is also incredibly nice; I learn so much from watching her work the room. I figured it’d be an easy day since I could just nap after volunteering and show up for my four hour shift at work and be done with it.
Anyway, I’m at the intersection waiting for the bus and here comes an express bus. I put my token in and sit down, and then I see the bus driver on the phone talking to transit control. He calls someone from the back to the front and they talk and then he sits down. He’s still on the phone and the bus hasn’t moved. He calls the person from the back to the front again, and this time I listen in:
“I’m fine, really, I am. It’s my fault, I fell down but I’ll be ok!”
“Sir, this is protocol, I have to do this.”
“But I’m not bleeding or anything, I’m not hurt, I’ll be fine. Let’s not delay this.”
“I have to do this.”
From what I can gather: the guy got on the bus, tripped and fell. The bus driver had to alert transit control to let them know what happened, guess it is protocol since they don’t want any liability lawsuits or anything. Well the person who fell kept insisting he was fine and assured the driver that it was “his own fault” and that it would be better if they just kept going. He kept saying he was “making a big deal out of nothing” and was getting more frustrated at the driver as the conversation went on. This conversation went on for another few minutes when the driver just put the bus out of service, and had us get on the next bus.
Now, it was 3:30pm when I got on the bus, and I needed to get to Yonge/Sheppard by 4:30pm. The express bus takes 30 minutes to get to Finch station, and the regular bus takes 40+ minutes. If I had taken the express bus, I would have got to my destination in 40 minutes, which leaves me 20 minutes of breathing room. The delay caused by the driver’s conversation with the customer meant that I was taking the next bus at 3:45pm, and it was a regular bus, not an express. I would most likely be late for work.
4:25pm rolls along and we’re pulling into Finch station. I will still be late, but only by a couple of minutes, so it’s not that bad. I run down to take the subway, and as I sit down I hear another announcement: “We are currently experiencing a delay southbound on our Yonge/University line at North York Centre station. One of our trains is experiencing a mechanical problem. Emergency crews are on the scene and are working to restore service as quickly as possible. We apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused, and we thank you for your patience.”
Motherfucker!
It’s two stops from Finch to Sheppard, and there just happens to be a delay at the stop in between Finch and Sheppard. ARGH! Of all the fucking days! So I wait, and 10 minutes later the problem is fixed and I’m back on my way. I arrived at work 15 minutes late, which irks me to no end, but the lot’s busy and it’s the end of the month meaning I have to renew people’s monthly cards as well. Within 5 minutes of my shift a lady puts her bent-as-shit credit card into the machine and it not only fucks up the machine, but gets her credit card stuck too. I had to use a pair of scissors to get her credit card out, and then had to stand outside to talk to all the customers and make sure nobody else puts stuff into the machine. I called someone and they sent someone nearby in to fix the machine for me.
Could this be the end of my bad day? Nope! Because at the end of my shift what I’m supposed to do is put the money I earned into a bank bag, and the money that is from my float into a white bag. They were all out of white bags. What I wanted to do was call the supervisor to ask him if it was ok if I put the float into a bank bag, and label it clearly so people can tell the difference. Simple. Real. Fucking. Simple.
I called and it was one of the students on the line and I asked to speak to the supervisor. He told me that he was out and was busy, but that he’d get him to call me back. Ok, cool! Five minutes later I get a call back and it’s the student asking me what’s wrong. I asked him where the supervisor was, and he told me the guy was eating in the office and he wanted to see if he could figure it out with me.
Alright, I’ll play along.
Red: “There’s no more white bags, so I just want to know if I can put the float into a bank bag instead and just label it.”
Student: “That’s interesting.”
R: “Yeah, any ideas?”
S: “Well, won’t the security guys just throw it in without reading? I don’t think they check.”
R: “They do check, they have to make sure that the bags they pick up are the bags that are signed in. But, since this lot doesn’t have a sign-in sheet, it’s the supervisors that pick this up.”
S: “I don’t know man…”
R: “Can I just talk to the supervisor?”
S: “He’s eating. I’ll tell him to call you back.”
*click*
AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! CAN’T I JUST TALK TO THE FUCKIN’ GUY?! IS IT THAT HARD?!
Five minutes pass and it’s the student again. He tells me to put it into the bank bag and label it, because it’s the supervisors who pick it up in the morning. THAT IS WHAT I TOLD HIM FROM THE START! WHY DID THIS PROCESS TAKE 15 MINUTES?!
All I wanted was to talk to my god damn supervisor, so I could tell him what I’m going to do. I ain’t asking, because there isn’t any other solution, so I’m telling him because this is the best way to do things. Instead I have to talk through some buffer who doesn’t know shit about the situation or how to solve it, and 15 minutes later get the same fucking solution that I put forth in the beginning.
I am about to go fuckin’ postal. Man, what a shitty day.
