Nora's Transit Strike Diary: Day One or, I Would NOT Walk 500 miles. Or 7.8.
Today the subway drivers and the bus drivers went on strike. For some people, this meant walking miles in freezing weather over the Brooklyn bridge. For others, this mean strapping on the rollerblades and hustling down Madison Ave. For some, it meant battling for a cab in order to get to the office. For me, it meant waking up, doing my laundry, mailing a letter, depositing a check, and making a donation to the Salvation Army. "Did you not have to go to work today?" asked a friend. I honestly don't know, I just wasn't there. In my defense, I'm new to New York, and I don't have the resources (aka balls) to get my ass somewhere when the going gets tough. When the going gets tough, I stop going. There are other barriers in place, also. For one, I live in Queens, and bridges are for cars. Also, this morning was cold. Besides, I answered my emails at least.
i pray that the transit strike continues so that this becomes a running feature.
I drove to work. In a car. My own car. Mmmm, the Midwest.
We have a light-rail system, but it only goes where poor people live (i.e., where I grew up). The rich people thought that crime would follow the rails, so nobody uses public transit. That means, if they were to strike, nobody would care.