Standing on the corner, waiting for the bus ...

I’m that person. You know the one, the one you make fun of for commuting in LA, for spending hours on the freeway alone in her car taunted by the car pool lane. The one who admits her commute can take up to an hour and a half. And that’s one way. I’m telling you this to explain why it was such a big deal to realize it’s not as hard as I had thought to take public transportation to work (a 30-mile trip from Long Beach to Los Angeles's mid-Wilshire area).

I wasn’t exactly a neophyte. I once participated in Bike to Work Day (bike/train) and more recently I took the train because I was meeting someone after work who could drive me home. But both seemed like special occasions. I wanted to find out whether I could do this on a regular basis.

I wake up at 6:30 a.m., a half hour earlier than usual. I leave my house at 7:27, two minutes late. Driving north on Long Beach Boulevard I'm right next to a train. Is that mine? No, it must be an earlier one because I’m still doing good for time.

After another brief panic that all the parking spots are full, I find more and get on the train. Relief. As soon as we leave the station, out the window I see an entrance to the 405 freeway. Thank god I’m not getting on that.

I eat breakfast (against the rules), read the newspaper, drink coffee (also against the rules). Truth be told, these are all things I do while driving (glancing at the newspaper at stop lights; I’m not that dangerous). But now it's safer and more relaxing. After the Wilmington stop I notice a Middle Eastern man reading a large book called the Holy Pascha. Is that fiction or some sort of religious text? I want to look it up when I get home. This is kinda fun.

I used to bemoan the idiocy of ending the Red Line at Western and not extending it further west, because then I (and countless others) could take the train to work. I dreamed of the Subway to the Sea as soon as I heard about the proposal. Because I had to take the Blue Line and then a bus to get to work (or the Blue Line to the Red Line and then TWO buses), I said it took too long so it wasn’t a viable option for me. And I liked my car. But necessity isn’t just the mother of invention, it’s also the mother of change. I realize that all along I could have been taking public transportation but I didn’t until the extra motivation of high gas prices (it cost $48 to fill up the tank of my coupe the other day, which means I’m now spending about $12 a day just driving to work).

8:33 a.m. The train arrives at the 7th Street/Metro Station a few minutes late. Huh, I thought trains ran like clockwork. After taking the wrong exit out of the station, I eventually get to my bus stop, but too late to catch the 316 fast bus that would have gotten me to work at the glorious (angels singing) hour of 8:56 a.m. So I wait.

8:51. I get on the 16, which will take 35 minutes. Gone are my hopes of getting to work on time, along with my naive belief that public transportation is highly efficient. There’s a sour taste in my mouth. What is it? Ah, bitterness.

9:05. Am I there yet? I miss the smooth ride of the train. This bus lurches and heaves over potholes. And I don’t have a row to myself anymore. I get to work at 9:24. Late but not too late so overall I’m in a good mood.

On the train going home, I make a list. "Likes: No NPR for a change in routine. Dislikes: accidental eye contact, no NPR." Then I add "body odor."

Still looking at my notebook, I think about how my perfectly plotted timetables became irrelevant as soon as I was actually using them. Trains and buses are late, you miss your transfer and have to take the slower bus. I’d no longer call this fun, but I realize that I like the feeling of not being in control. It actually makes me feel more in control than driving when I’m faced with a million little decisions that seem so important. Should I change lanes? Should I get over now or wait until the lanes to my right have merged? Should I get off at the Manchester exit and take surface streets or risk staying on the freeway into downtown? Could I get to work in time to stop at Coffee Bean? Agh ...

Half an hour later: I’m bored (just finished some editing for work), then I'm uncomfortable listening to a shouting homeless man ask for money (he begins with "Excuse me" and he's on my train a few days later making the same speech). I want to be home already. But at least I’m having different emotions. In my car it’s the same thing every day. I never get to sit back and look out the window or read. Encased in my car, I feel like a robot. Taking public transportation makes me feel more alive. I’m traveling through Los Angeles instead of above it. I’m sitting next to other Angelenos, smelling their fast food, making that accidental eye contact. I even get to be outside when I walk three blocks from the bus stop to the train station. This may seem like no big deal, but my parking spot is underground so I can literally travel 30 miles without experiencing weather (and I don’t dare roll down my window on the polluted highways). Walking downtown I passed a bar advertising $4 Stellas. It was filled with hip-looking people my age. Oh ya, I realized, it’s Friday. Life versus my car the black hole.

Going home the train was on time and I got to my car at 7:23 p.m., which is about the time I usually get home. It feels strange that after all this, I still have to drive four miles to get home (half the distance of my co-worker’s entire commute). But I feel accomplished and less rushed, since I’ve already read the paper, which means one less thing to do.

I’m going to ditch my car more often, even though I have to get up earlier. A big motivation is gas prices. But I also like knowing it’s better for the environment. I’ve always felt like a hypocritical environmentalist who uses reusable nylon grocery bags and reuses sandwich bags but pollutes the air with my commute. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but thanks Metro. Oh, and a poster on the train told me to tell me friends. So hey you, "Go Metro."