Author's note: my car has been broken down for weeks and my nanny job depends on it. Although my bosses are millionaires they are only paying me $9 and hour and have no idea that I'm at risk of another episode of homelessness.
1/6/03
What a nightmare. I'm still without the car and the auto shop hasn't even come up with a diagnosis yet. Carlessness is akin to homelessness. The entire last 4 days has been almost solely about getting around town. I'm at Barnes and Noble right now. "We" (the house i'm renting an apt. in) have had no indoor plumbing for 4 days. I have not been able to bathe, do dishes oe even flush the toilet.
Toyda I'm busting my ass trying to figure out how to get to work. I called a cab at noon. (It's very cold and ice and snow cover the sidewalks) The cab. company asked me for my phone #, but I don't have it memorized yet so I cdan't give it to them.
They said: "What corner will you be waiting on?"
I said "Well, i'm at rusk and manhattan but i'd like you to pick me up at my home"
"We can't do that if you don't give us a phone #"
I walk 2 blocks through ice and snow. A guy asks me "How you doon?"
I told him I've bee asked to wait at the corner for the cab company.
"But you don't know how long you'll have to wait" he said.
I thought: "Oh fuck this. I'm hitching with the next person who looks safe. An old guy is driving by. If offer to pay him to take me to the light rail. He says I'll take you but I can't accept your money!"
I get to the light rail and ask 4 people which light rail stop I'd have to get off at for Thrifty rental car? But nobody knows.
Each person gave me an incorrect answer.
I got off at the wrong stop and haved to take bus 27 to get to Thrifty. Eventually got there just to find out that I can't afford a rental car. So I called for a cab to take me all the way to my nanny job.
Just to have my boss renee* tell me that she doesn't need myservices today because the schools are closed!
she said she'd be willing to drop me at barnes and noble if i'll wait an hour and half. (I've lost the transit money and a days wages)
I'm at b and na and I'm worrying about whether or not I should take a bus, a cab or try to find another rental car I can afford. I just overheard that the roads are getting real bad
Should I chance getting into a n accident with a rental car? Or do I hope tha a cab will get me safely home? If I have the rental car tomorrow I'll have to use it to pick my boys up from school.
There is no rest for the weary.
Showing posts with label public transportation in Baltimore. Show all posts
Showing posts with label public transportation in Baltimore. Show all posts
Monday, March 31, 2014
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
"Street Survival" 4/15/96
Remember when I used to italicize and put things in different colors? I don't know where those options have dissapeared to. ;(
Anyhow here is my Author's Note written today. I've been journaling since 1981. I never journal with an audience in mind. I write what is happening in my life and from the heart. Original journal entries may not include every detail that happened that day but they will give you a very good idea of life in urban poverty. I hope to illustrate in this entry how much time, how much physical and psychological energy and how dangerous it is to have so few choices in life. It's hard work to survive and very time consuming. Is there any time left over to get ahead and better your life? You decide.
4/11/96 Written from "Bawlmer Cafe" near Johns Hopkins Hospital
I figured I better be conscientious and attend the mandatory workshop required of everyone on food stamps. I went out to the bus stop (I live in Hampden) at 7:40 a.m. The #27 bus arrived at 8:10 a.m. The driver isn't sure but she thinks I should transfer to the #5 to get to my destination. Then she goes on, you should probably transfer to the #62. "How often do those buses run?" "I have no idea" she replied.
I decide instead of waiting for the #62, that I better walk the last 12 blocks to the Career Center. (could a disabled person do all that is required to make this round trip?) I'm scared because my acquaintance Charles told me to stay out of East and West Baltimore.
I arrive at the center 45 minutes late. They don't want to let me in. I talk them into it. I'm one of 3 whites in the workshop. Lucy* the teacher walks us through: "How to fill out a job application!" Tragic! The women sitting near me are looking at my application because they don't know how to fill one out.
One man turns to me and asks:" how do you spell "JANITOR?!"
Lucy speaks rapidly in Ebonics. Workshop attendees are fighting about urban issues such as child rearing practices. I don't agree with any of the harsh philosophies. When this "job application" segment is done, we hadn't even had an opportunity to fill out the entire application.
Next I was led to a computer room to work with a system called Alex. I never got to finish what I was doing with that either then I was led somewhere else. We were just shuffled from place to place and for what?
I leave the Career Center to head for the #22 bus. Theoretically it runs every 20 minutes. I'm freezing cold in unfamiliar territory. I decide to just go ahead and walk the 15 blocks that are required to get to the subway station at Johns Hopkins Hospital. I am in the "Hood of hoods."
I'm weaving back and forth from one side of the street to the other for the entire 15 blocks in the hopes of avoiding getting mugged or killed. At one point 3 men are walking behind me. I walk fast hoping to pass them, when one called out to me:
"Hey sugar! How you doin?"
I don't know whether I should ignore him or answer him. One began chanting: "SWEET PUSSY, BEAT PUSSY, DO ANYTHING YOU WANT TO PUSSY!"
I am TERRIFIED! I will NOT go back to this neighborhood again. I'll just have to take any kind of work at all so I won't need the food stamps. I pray that something comes through quickly.........................
Anyhow here is my Author's Note written today. I've been journaling since 1981. I never journal with an audience in mind. I write what is happening in my life and from the heart. Original journal entries may not include every detail that happened that day but they will give you a very good idea of life in urban poverty. I hope to illustrate in this entry how much time, how much physical and psychological energy and how dangerous it is to have so few choices in life. It's hard work to survive and very time consuming. Is there any time left over to get ahead and better your life? You decide.
4/11/96 Written from "Bawlmer Cafe" near Johns Hopkins Hospital
I figured I better be conscientious and attend the mandatory workshop required of everyone on food stamps. I went out to the bus stop (I live in Hampden) at 7:40 a.m. The #27 bus arrived at 8:10 a.m. The driver isn't sure but she thinks I should transfer to the #5 to get to my destination. Then she goes on, you should probably transfer to the #62. "How often do those buses run?" "I have no idea" she replied.
I decide instead of waiting for the #62, that I better walk the last 12 blocks to the Career Center. (could a disabled person do all that is required to make this round trip?) I'm scared because my acquaintance Charles told me to stay out of East and West Baltimore.
I arrive at the center 45 minutes late. They don't want to let me in. I talk them into it. I'm one of 3 whites in the workshop. Lucy* the teacher walks us through: "How to fill out a job application!" Tragic! The women sitting near me are looking at my application because they don't know how to fill one out.
One man turns to me and asks:" how do you spell "JANITOR?!"
Lucy speaks rapidly in Ebonics. Workshop attendees are fighting about urban issues such as child rearing practices. I don't agree with any of the harsh philosophies. When this "job application" segment is done, we hadn't even had an opportunity to fill out the entire application.
Next I was led to a computer room to work with a system called Alex. I never got to finish what I was doing with that either then I was led somewhere else. We were just shuffled from place to place and for what?
I leave the Career Center to head for the #22 bus. Theoretically it runs every 20 minutes. I'm freezing cold in unfamiliar territory. I decide to just go ahead and walk the 15 blocks that are required to get to the subway station at Johns Hopkins Hospital. I am in the "Hood of hoods."
I'm weaving back and forth from one side of the street to the other for the entire 15 blocks in the hopes of avoiding getting mugged or killed. At one point 3 men are walking behind me. I walk fast hoping to pass them, when one called out to me:
"Hey sugar! How you doin?"
I don't know whether I should ignore him or answer him. One began chanting: "SWEET PUSSY, BEAT PUSSY, DO ANYTHING YOU WANT TO PUSSY!"
I am TERRIFIED! I will NOT go back to this neighborhood again. I'll just have to take any kind of work at all so I won't need the food stamps. I pray that something comes through quickly.........................
Monday, June 18, 2007
GETTING THERE in Baltimore
I wanted to board the #8 proceeding south at 5:15 p.m. The first bus passes me right by even though I can clearly see there are plenty of seats. There is a good chance the driver did not pick me up because I am "minority white." 10 minutes later another bus comes by and the driver does stop. Riders are standing in a probited area in front of the yellow line, even though there are seats available!
Not only is it a federal offense,to ride in front of the yellow line, but it's very common and very dangerous. I refuse to ride in front of the yellow line. I am forced to push my way past people so I can get past the yellow line. I take the risk of infuriating people, but I know darn well there is room back there, but that people usually refuse to move back, and the driver doesn't enforce it.
After about 8 blocks I find a seat. Remarkably, a black and a white woman are talking with one another and they aren't fighting with each other. I quickly psychoanalyze why this must be. Perhaps because it's rush hour? More working people, more open to behaving civilly. It's the usual thing, complaining about how horrid our system is assuming that the grqass is greener on the other side/in other cities.
As they complained, I said: "Well, our lives are passing us by, if we want a better life we are going to have to leave Baltimore!"
lady a-"I can't leave, my family is here and I'm sick."
me-"I'm also in the category of "can't" leave because "situation bad", but as long as I'm alive, I'm going to work like hell for a better life and that means getting out of here."
She buries her head in her book.
Some believe that a true activist sticks around and tries to make a problem better. But I know that Baltimore isn't going to be a liveable place in my lifetime, and I desperately need something something better. It's just not worth fighting for a better life here, the odds of it happening are just too slim.
Not only is it a federal offense,to ride in front of the yellow line, but it's very common and very dangerous. I refuse to ride in front of the yellow line. I am forced to push my way past people so I can get past the yellow line. I take the risk of infuriating people, but I know darn well there is room back there, but that people usually refuse to move back, and the driver doesn't enforce it.
After about 8 blocks I find a seat. Remarkably, a black and a white woman are talking with one another and they aren't fighting with each other. I quickly psychoanalyze why this must be. Perhaps because it's rush hour? More working people, more open to behaving civilly. It's the usual thing, complaining about how horrid our system is assuming that the grqass is greener on the other side/in other cities.
As they complained, I said: "Well, our lives are passing us by, if we want a better life we are going to have to leave Baltimore!"
lady a-"I can't leave, my family is here and I'm sick."
me-"I'm also in the category of "can't" leave because "situation bad", but as long as I'm alive, I'm going to work like hell for a better life and that means getting out of here."
She buries her head in her book.
Some believe that a true activist sticks around and tries to make a problem better. But I know that Baltimore isn't going to be a liveable place in my lifetime, and I desperately need something something better. It's just not worth fighting for a better life here, the odds of it happening are just too slim.
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