Tunnels

On my way home tonight I saw a man jump the turnstile at the subway entrance. He had long, stringy hair and was wearing dirty jeans and really worn out shoes. He was wet from the rain tonight.

He looked nervous jumping the gate, even though the token taker was sitting on the other side of the booth dealing with other people who were probably pissed off about the current token shortage and being forced into buying tickets that expire in a few weeks.

It made me sad that this man obviously did not have the $2.75 cash fare required to get around on a sub par transit system.

It made me think he probably doesn't have much of anything at all.

As I made my way onto the platform, I noticed the door to the room where the drivers take their break was open. I've always been curious about the set up they have in those secret rooms.

Inside were three of the TTC's finest sitting on plastic chairs. All of them were drinking from Tim Hortons coffee cups and eating granola bars.

On the back wall was a string of white Christmas lights that had been awkwardly taped up. This was the only light coming from the tiny room. A cozy little space for them to take a break from transporting the masses.

And then the man who jumped the turnstile popped into my head again. I bet he would have enjoyed a nice warm cup of coffee and a granola bar while the soft Christmas lights twinkled around him. And I'm sure he would have enjoyed the huge salary that comes with working for the TTC.

Rainy nights like tonight really highlight the divide between societal class.