Rebel rider

Cops. Fuck, is what I said when I got to the MAX station. I'm not running from the law. I haven't mo-murdered any fools. I'm no thief. It's just that, well, I don't exactly pay to sit on the train that is going to move with or without me and my bike. I'm a rebel rider. And I've never been caught. Wait. There was this time when I bought a two-zone ticket. I gave it to the cop because he asked me for my ticket. And on that day I actually bought one. The problem: I was in zone three. Well, I walked from there. Was close enough. Didn't have my bike rolling. Now that I ride, I hang it from the rack at 4:53 a.m. downtown, when I catch the first Blue of the morning. And back, usually around 2:43 p.m., the Red or the Blue. I only ride for three stops. One of the stops shouldn't even count. It's like a 1,000 feet underground. In the middle of nowhere. So, it's two stops really that I need to ride. And, as stated earlier, the MAX is going with or without me. If anything they should pay me to ride. I'm pretty much the only sane and (sometimes) showered one on the thing. OK, so cops are at the station that I need to catch my train today on the way back from work. They're hassling everyone getting on and off. And there's no way they'd let me get on. And here's the problem: I've got no money. I do. Some. In the bank. (I should have more, but the fucking jerk I kicked out of my house hasn't paid the money he owes me for the bills.) So, I'm thinking I'll use my debit card at the machine and buy an all-zone ticket to ride the three stops so that I don't get hassled by these cops. The problem is the ticket machine won't take the card I normally use at the ATM(achine). (Ticket) Machine says, Can't contact bank. I say, What in the shit is this noise? Now, I've got to go to Trader Joe's and buy something so that I can get cash back because there's no ATM(achine) anywhere in sight. I get a sushi roll and a juice of some sort, and five singles back. I scarf it (the sushi) down and head back to the tracks, where the cops have wrapped up their trap. Have called it quits. Are done for. I think about not buying a ticket, think better, buy one, and then head off to my final physical therapy appointment, paid for by worker's comp. Good thing too. Yesterday I put in my two-week notice. No more health care. No more MAX worries. At least not at 4:53 a.m. At least not without a ticket.

Take good care. And remember, tip your caregivers with kindness.

1 comment :

Michael Edenfield said...

Way to stick it to the man Carson! We're rooting for you up here in the chain.