Getting home before frostbite sets in
Another long evening, running a problematic videoconference that had no audio, so I patched a phone line into the room and ran a bi-modal until about halfway through when we added another caller to the audio conference from a local hospital. All this to allow debate on how much would be an appropriate allocation for newspaper advertisements to attract new clientele, if the need arose. At least the catered supper was good, if interrupted by technical needs.
Now, we’re late into the evening, and my usual ride home isn’t available. No problem, there’s the trusty city bus. Except. We’re late in the day, and that bus is running every hour – next hour. It’s -22C in the wind, so a jog for fifteen minutes gets my frozen corpse (I exaggerate, but only a little) to a street with a more frequent service. Crosstown at night has a very different clientele from the usual rush hour gang I’ve been travelling with for the last two decades. I feel as if I’m in a city, with a larger percentage of rappers than usually are seen at dawn. The bus gets me to a terminus close to home.
Once again, night service isn’t. Over an hour until the next circuit. Did i mention the -22C in the wind. Still there. I decided to act like a rich guy and finish my trip by taxi. The young guy in his van had nothing better to do, so off we went. He found my accent curious (the story of my life) and proceed to explain that he wanted to learn English (in French) so he could follow a career realignment. Seems he into his thirties, his schooling led to a taxi job for the last five years, and now he’s awaiting entry into the military, as a trainee in air traffic control. With a portion of the course in Cornwall. From experience I commisserate, and wish him the best of luck. I’m home. Only ninety minutes and twenty dollars in fees to get back from work. A real deal.
