A Public (Transit) Adventure

A couple of weeks ago, Mike and I made our way down to the outlets at the border (which are amazing, because you’re literally mere feet away from Mexico and can see the giant fence that separates our two nations).  I purchased a ton of clothes, some of which I decided to return once I got them home.  I’d been putting off taking them back, but Mike suggested we take the trolley to the outlets in order to make my returns.

There’s a trolley station a few blocks from our house, so yesterday we hoofed it down the hill and settled in at the stop to wait for the train.  A woman listening to an old school Walkman sat down next to us and immediately we were serenaded with “Everybody” by Madonna.  That wasn’t too bad, actually, as I love Madonna.  What was bad, though, was when she cracked open her can of 7-Up and began burping loudly and making vomiting sounds.  Apparently the soda didn’t agree with her.  We waited and waited and waited for the train, and finally decided to walk 13 or so blocks to the next station, where we needed to transfer to the southbound line.  Of course as soon as we took off, the trolley came by.

We got to the station, hopped on the next train, and stood for what felt like forever but was really only about 35 minutes.  We watched old men and women get on the trolley and younger people ignore them rather than giving up their seats; we shared the train with people with armfuls of groceries, moms with strollers and babies, and church ladies with Bibles.  The scenery passed by and finally we were at the border, where we were faced with another walk, this time from the trolley station to the outlets.

All in all, the trip from our house to the stores took about 90 minutes.  We covered 25 miles max.  I now remember why I hated taking public transportation so much before I got my license and car.  The sense of dependency that comes from waiting on your ride (whether it’s a bus or a train or anything else), the lack of personal space that accompanies shared quarters, the tired feet from standing and walking…  My Corolla may not have power doors or windows, but it’s all mine!