The Long Haul

Part of using public transportation to the exclusion of almost anything else is the inevitable very long, nearly intolerable commute. These days, I don't have that so often, for a variety of reasons. More of the places I go to are near, and the places that are far I can get to through the kindness of car-driving friends. Still it happens from time to time, and I won't deny that such arduous, onerous journeys are indeed much-dreaded.

Still, they must be dealt with. Typically what they entail are about an hour and a half to two hours split up into three legs. If I'm fortunate, one or two of the three are rail trips, which are quicker and more reliable than buses. The clientele of the trains are distinctly more pleasurable to be around as well, although that is not a completely dependable generalization. Still, you hope to see the subway and a light rail show up on the itinerary. Three trains are too much to hope for.

I love reading, but find it harder and harder to set aside the time. I've written about reading on public transit before, but it's worth noting again that you can really make some headway in a dense tome when on a bus for so long. My tunes are only a pleasing diversion for so long, as are the wondrous features of my phone. A good book can soak up a lot of time, and as I've also said before, people can see what you're reading. A lady is never going to take a shine to me because of the music I have in my headphones.

Something that can't be helped is the lack of a restroom. It's certainly not always the case that one would be of real benefit, and I can't imagine a bathroom aboard a city bus would be fit for humans, but sometimes it would be nice. No book or song is distraction enough when one feels that sense of urgent need. This is when you uncover new faith in the Almighty as you implore him for the strength to endure until you reach your destination. Then again, you might as well pray for the ability to teleport.