The revolution may be televised but it seems I’m not always watching.
Because I go on self imposed television news blackouts from time to time, I didn’t know why there seemed to be so many extra humans on my 8:15 to the city.
I arrived downtown and found myself queued up behind a bunch more than usual bleary eyeds for coffee.
After I got to work and declared myself awake, I read reports on the Internet that the fine workers of the Toronto Transit Commission are saying hell no, we will not be driving 700,000 of you to work this morning.
One of the reports stated the issue as management wanting 100 workers to switch from a day shift to a night shift permanently because it’s cheaper. Another report had some safety concerns cited. Some said they were locked out, others said the whole thing was an illegal action.
I just enjoyed the whole wildcat atmosphere created since usually we’re given fair warning about these things and everyone draws up lame ass contingency plans. No time this time.
This all coincided with ride your bike week or whatever that’s called. Do I even still own a bike?
Currently it’s 34 degrees Celsius with a humidex making it feel like 42. For the uninitiated, that’s 107.6 in dog years. I mean Fahrenheit.
10 comments:
That was quite the short strike. I see normality returns at 6am tomorrow.
Will Toronto become the next France or Italy? A strike every other day just because?
Strike this! Jerks! It's them what caused the heat, too...So hot...my knees are sweating and the cats are lying under the deck trying to keep cool...No central air in this radiator-heated almost 80 year old house of ours...
You need some air in thair! Go git it.
Invite me to your cool air conditioned basement lair
I love Toronto.
You have a Parliament street, that is bad ass funky.
Good thing the strike was short, in NY they would have taken atleast a week to make everyone admit there is no mafia.
Parliament is funkadelic JCC -- we're simpler here, we pray for more mafia love just for the exposure. We're all wearing our Sopranos shirts and shit.
Tanya, you must come to the lair soon. Or we must go lairing somewhere for dinner. I'm hungry, but instead I will go to bed.
France or Italy - either way you can't go wrong. They both drink wine at lunch. By 2pm you no longer care (or remember) if there's a strike.
Italy - ahh, a fond memory of sipping coffee outdoors in Verona and watching the happiest lot of strikers march by singing and flag waving. Must go back. And you're right, they both have wine!!
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