Tonight marks the beginning of my grandmother’s yahrzeit. Eighteen years….hard to believe it’s been that long. I thought of her last night– as I so often do – while waiting in a damp drizzle for the 57th Street crosstown bus.
“Never run after a man or a streetcar,” she told me repeatedly. “There’s always another one coming.”
Run, schmun, I thought, as the cold drops chilled me and the endless traffic streamed past with no bus in sight. If my recent (and not so recent) experiences in the Schmuck Parade reflect the state of the fleet, I’m riding around in gypsy cabs and jalopies. No, I’m not looking for a Hummer or a stretch limo with a driver -- just a clean, well maintained bus that runs on time, makes all scheduled stops, gets decent gas mileage and drops me safely near my destination.
MTA, can you help me out here?!