Take the long way home
Public transit has one very consistent habit; the bus always takes the same way from point A to point B, unless it doesn’t… happily for those of us who may be (MAY BE) borderline OCD, it generally takes the same way, day after day, on a schedule that is written down in blue and white.
That’s why when I am, exceptionally, a passenger in a car going homeward, it seems to take much longer than it would if I was in charge of navigation (even when I am). Today a co-worker came in seeking advice on the next family computer. Part of my professional demeanour requires ignoring the clock that is screaming out “time to go, don’t you know?”. There will be another bus, sooner or later… OK, later.
My twitching and slurring of words must have borne witness to the obvious withdrawal symptoms of an addiction to bus travel; an offer of a ride home. Just one small detour to pick up some travel vouchers and then off to the home I call my own.
First sign of worry, when he extracts a cellphone from a side pocket and calls his wife to find out where the agency was located. We’re already in a different neighbourhood. “Oh, it’s moved! OK, tomorrow”. Sigh of relief (I am a master of the silent sigh). Now, let’s get on the road.
Down the hill, through a detour, over along by the rue de l’Aqueduct (Please, don’t let it erupt in a 48 inch geyser while I’m here. Is this car waterproof?). Avoid the big truck with a crane on the back and traffic backing up in two directions; turn left onto a street leading to a major maill (Oh look, isn’t the reconstruction of the Riviere St-Charles going well!). Corner to corner to the racetrack, and then north to the eastbound.
By this point, we’re over halfway across the city, and for the first time my internal lodestone is pointing to the hearth (even if we don’t have a fireplace). By sheer luck, we’ve fallen exactly between the two fifteen-minute long rush hours that happen diurnally around here. Up the hill, under the overpass, right and a slide into the industrial park. Only ten more turns to go.
At last, we’re in front of the house, I’ve explained to my adventurous pilot how to navigate without me towards his own family, and goodbye. My ride is over.
Enfin!!!
