The Road Home

After successfully using public transportation to get to work, my first thought was, “I wonder if I could get a ride home with my friend who works down the street?” Not because I had a bad experience or anything, but because I was worried about the time factor. I had kids to pick up and evening activities scheduled!

I called my friend and she agreed to give me a ride home.

At 11:00am I realized I had a dentist appointment. No problem, it was within walking distance.

When I returned from my appointment I had a voicemail from my supervisor inviting me to a luncheon at the U of M Holiday Inn. No problem, I rode to the meeting with him.

By mid-afternoon I had a change of heart. I took my kids to school, got to work, went to the dentist, and attended a meeting without using my car. I should take the bus home!

I looked at the bus schedules again. I decided to take the #50 bus home down Poplar to get a feel for a different route. Looking at the departure times and considering the extra time it took me on my morning commute, I didn’t think there was much chance of me making it to my kids’ school before closing.

I called my husband and he agreed to get the kids. Then I called my friend and canceled my previous request for a ride home.

My main concern was getting to the North Terminal. It seemed a lot hotter outside and I was less energetic at 5pm than I was at 8am. I hoped I could get a trolley right away so I wouldn’t feel compelled to walk, which might be quicker than riding the trolley if none was in sight.

When I left the building and looked down Main Street, I saw a trolley one block away at Linden & Main. I immediately sprinted to Beale & Main in order to catch it. I felt a little silly doing this, but I did it anyway.

In my MATA materials I couldn’t find anything about a trolley to bus transfer, so I had called MATA to find out the cost. The woman on the phone told me it would be $1.60. I thought it was odd that going from trolley to bus would cost me .10 more than going from bus to trolley, but I kept my mouth shut.

When I boarded the trolley, I decided to double check the price of a transfer with the driver. “$1.50,” he said.

I paid the allotted amount and he handed me a transfer ticket.

Surprisingly the trolley was even less crowded now than it had been in the morning. There were only two other people riding.

As we trollied along, I tried to enjoy the sights. The kids playing in the fountains outside City Hall seemed to be having a blast. And I was happy to see a streetlight with a CFL in front of the Convention Center Marriot.

Once at the North Terminal, I walked around back to where all of the busses were. I noticed that they were coming in from two different directions and that there was a crowd of people waiting on either side of the platform. I decided I better go inside and find out which side I should stand on.

There were lots of people waiting inside the station (enjoying the air-conditioning). I walked toward the information booth and asked a woman which side the #50 would be on.

“There's a #50 now,” she said motioning out the window.

I briskly walked outside and joined a large group of people who were lining up to board. However, once all but one passenger and the driver got off, a group of police officers boarded the bus and closed the doors. They appeared to be questioning the remaining passenger.

After a few minutes, they all exited the bus and we got on. Despite this delay, the bus left right on time. As I looked around at my fellow passengers I started to wonder if after awhile everyone who rides the bus on a regular basis gets to know the other people who also ride the bus on a regular basis. I was thinking that might be nice.

At a stop near Morris Park, our driver started a conversation with a young man in a wheelchair a few feet from the bus shelter. “Hey, Antonio! When did you get your chair?” she yelled.

I couldn’t hear his response, but she said, laughing, “I’ve given you my number a thousand times already!”

The rest of the trip was uneventful. I got off the bus at Hollywood & Poplar 18 minutes after I boarded it at the North Terminal.

I enjoyed walking down my street and saying hello to neighbors, looking at lawns and houses, and noting general changes. It was pretty hot and I was glad that I had a bottle of water.

Twelve minutes later I was home. Again, my total commute took about an hour.

I spent two hours just getting to and from work. Two hours for less than six miles. Honestly, I just don’t know if I have two extra hours to spare everyday.

I wonder how long it would take me to ride a bike to work?