A few months ago I posted a humorous entry about one hellish day on the NYC subway and how it took me a few hours to get home and how I caught a cab with a Greek man. It was funny. But I was angry. SERIOUSLY. I can’t even count the number of times the subway trains never come, the train is rerouted due to construction, there’s an “incident”, a fire, a conductor who mumbles or slurs or is plain inaudible in his announcements, etc. Living in Astoria, I depend on the subway to get to work. I NEED IT. There are no other options for me.
Today, as we all know and hate, the MTA went on strike. I have not met a single person who supports them or endorses such an action. With four shopping days to go before Christmas, I am stranded with no way to make any money. What doesn’t help the situation is that I contracted a stomach virus (a bonus of nannying 15 month old twins!) and cancelled work yesterday due to the fact that I was in fact, glued to the toilet.
Jeff Jarvis explains the MTA’s ridiculous demands in his blog which can be read here. For some reason the MTA has a sick sense of entitlement, walking out on their jobs and ruining the lives of millions of commuters. I personally could not think of a WORSE time for this to happen being that I have $67 in my checking account, five more Christmas gifts to buy and a JOB in manhattan that I cannot physically GET TO. There are mighty evil feelings brewing in my poor sick stomach. Of that, you can be certain.
I’m finally able to hold down water, chamomile tea and a few saltines. I seriously cannot remember a time when I was as sick as I was yesterday. Vomiting is horrendous. Vomiting alone in Queens while your roommate is vacationing in the Cayman Islands is TEN TIMES WORSE THAN THAT. I kept drifting in and out of consciousness last night as my phone would ring. One of the phonecalls was Tom.
“Oh I’m sorry! Hey at least you’ll lose that weight you were gaining…”
Thanks Tom! Also, in between consciousness and phone calls I may or may not have mumbled something about needing a stomach transplant. Apparently even sick, I am amusing to some people. But really, I was dying. Or pretty sure I was dying. This morning I chugged a huge glass of water due to pure dehydration and just said a prayer that it would stay in my stomach. So far, it has complied.
So I’m poor. The dirty dishes are overwhelming me, the carpet needs cleaning, the few Christmas gifts I’ve purchased need to be wrapped, more importantly, I NEED TO GET ON THE SUBWAY TO MAKE SOME MONEY SO I CAN PAY MY BILLS. I’m seething. REALLY. In between throwing up of course, I AM SO SO SO ANGRY!!!!
I don’t think I’d be so bitter if the MTA had a REASON. If they were fighting a just cause, I’d say heck yeah I’ll sacrifice my LIFE for you. BUT WHAT?!?!?!? An 8% pay increase over three years? RETIRING AT AGE 55? You have to be JOKING ME. My father is almost 61, teaches 8th grade math to ghetto children in Wyandanch and is NOWHERE NEAR RETIRING!? PLEASE. Please just get over your ridiculous selves and drive the freaking trains. I know you have an important job–my grandfather was a subway conductor. But really? If he was alive today, he would not be marching with you in your picket lines because HE? was cool. Granted, he was also extremely racist and used to beat my dad with a belt but really, who are you to judge my ancestors?
I say, get yo’ asses back to your jobs and let’s call it a day. Let Laura go babysit the twins who gave her a stomach virus so she can buy her little brother the first season of Pete and Pete on DVD for Christmas. HOW CAN YOU DENY MY ADORABLE LITTLE BROTHER COMPLETE SETS OF OLD NICKELODEON SHOWS ON CHRISTMAS?! HE IS SO CUTE! God. This sucks.
I’m going to go make a nice bubbly glass of gingerale and possibly go home so my mom can take care of me. Because really? I’m really really sick of throwing up all by myself. I want my mom. And money. Lots of money.
Update 12/22/05 Still no trains but I thought I should say that I realized it’s not the MTA–it’s the TWU. The MTA are the people resisting the stupid demands of the TWU. So. Sorry!