Detour

Strange the things that get strangers to talk to one another in this city. Today I left work with a plan to meet Viv for dinner. She's back in town after Paris and I haven't seen her in 2 years. 2 YEARS. As I walked to the subway I noticed the police cars, firetrucks, ambulances, sirens, flashing lights. I was REALLY hoping it was just a bomb threat in a near by office building. No dice. All anyone said was that the power was out and the subways weren't working from Eglinton to Bloor along the Yonge Line. RIGHT. POWER OUT. AKA there must have been a jumper. ANYWAY, I was waiting for a bus but on Eglinton it is impossible so I huffed my way down to St Clair and managed to get on a westward bus. It was filled with women. I really saw no men other than the driver. I asked someone if anyone knew if the University line was running. Suddenly we got into the topic of subway jumpers and how it happens once a day, you just don't hear about it that often, and why would anyone want to jump in front of a subway because you never die and then this one woman with a loud booming voice kept saying, "They have to back up the train, regardless of what state you are in underneath the train. So you get run over again. They have to back it up! The poor drivers!!" Then somehow we got into a group discussion about more effective ways about killing yourself and how pills would be good but then one woman was saying that she heard that when someone wants to kill themself they have a method in mind and stick to it even if it isn't logical. That is why they had to put the protective nets on the bridge over the DVP.

It was crazy. The funny thing is that the thing that shocked me the most was that so many of us were joined in this conversation. Slowly, as more people boarded the bus as we moved westward, the conversations died off and people stuck to talking to their friends in quieter voices.

Now, I am beat. And in knots. One of these days I am SO getting a massage. Tonight the only treat I get is an early bedtime.