Thursday, November 12, 2015
Getting around... with a little help from my friends
I spent some time in New York City recently. My favorite mode of transportation were the buses of the Metropolitan Transit Authority (MTA). The ladies and gentlemen who drive these buses work miracles when it comes to navigating through the traffic. They never hit anybody, they never ran over anybody and they honked their horns every 15 seconds. Because I was in a motorized wheelchair, the bus driver had to deploy an electronic ramp either at the front of, or in the middle of, the bus. Then everybody waiting to get on had to step aside while I drove up the ramp, the bus driver took time to see that I was situated and belted in, then resumed the boarding of the other passengers. It was as if someone walked up to you in the middle of your work day and said, "stop! I have to help an old lady across the street." Two miraculous events require mention. One: The crowd of New Yorkers waiting to board stood patiently aside while I got on the bus. And two: the bus drivers were all gracious, competent and welcoming as they were getting me strapped down. Then the regular New Yorkers boarded the bus. I wondered if the bus drivers had special ADA classes. But then, I wondered if the whole city of New York had ADA classes. Because, when do you get a whole crowd of New Yorkers to stand aside patiently? On one occasion, I was the second chair in the bus, so everyone had to go through this maneuver twice.
The thing every passenger needs to remember as they board the bus is their destination. But I am not as accomplished as a regular New Yorker. So my husband would whisper our destination in my ear as we got on the bus, and if I was fortunate, I could remember it for the 20 seconds before the bus driver asked me for it. On one occasion, when I could not remember what to tell the bus driver about our itinerary, I shouted out to Tom, "WHERE AM I GOING?" I guess I have to consider myself lucky that Tom and I were not arrested as part of some worldwide gimp slave trade.
After our New York adventure we returned to San Diego. The flight arrived at 10 p.m., and we boarded a city bus right at the terminal. The bus driver said, "Hi, welcome aboard. I think I have seen you before." I am not sure if that was true or if he was speaking for his brothers and sisters in New York.
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