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Last Updated: Nov 6th, 2008 - 09:09:09 |
I'm in college. I work two jobs, have student loans and frequently skip going out in order to save money. My rent is reasonable, but the size of my bedroom is not. I drive a 2000 Chevrolet Monte Carlo. It's not exactly cool, but better than 90 percent of the cars sitting near mine in the student parking lots on campus.
I'm a responsible student, for the most part. I am sometimes derailed over a long weekend or friend's birthday. On the other hand, I am not a responsible checkbook balancer.
After taking a gander at my ever-diminishing account, I noticed two things: for one, filling up my car with gas is eating through my money faster than I thought. Two, I spend way too much money on booze.
The latter of the two is a rite of passage for college kids and at times a survival trick. Much to the disappointment of my parents, I am not prepared to fix that right now. So I decided to become a loyal Regional Transportation District rider.
With that decision, I spent the next three hours on my hands and knees over a route map the size of my living room rug. I eventually grew tired and settled upon a route that was in the general direction of campus. I live in Lowry, therefore I wanted to head west, I think.
I ended up six blocks away from campus and walked to class during one of the hottest September days Denver has ever seen. By the time I made it to class, I was 20 minutes late, hot, sweaty and overall very angry. I sat down, texted a friend to pick me up and enjoyed a friendly, air-conditioned ride home.
The next day I tried again. I made it from Lowry to downtown on the No. 6 bus, and also acquired some knowledge along the way.
For those of you who are reading this and thinking of attempting an RTD ride on your own, here are some words of wisdom from a not-so-seasoned veteran: when in the LoDo area, you can basically get on any light rail train headed west (they are lettered) and you will end up on campus. I learned this only after I impatiently waited for the H line when I could have saved 15 minutes, graced any of them with my presence and gotten to the exact same place.
I was surprised that public transportation gave me such trouble. After all, I am from Kansas. People who have grown up in Kansas are supposed to have innate abilities to find north from their front porches. If you can find north in Kansas where there are no hills and no trees, you can find north anywhere.
In Kansas we describe places not by the street number or neighboring buildings but by the general compass direction and how many acres it is. My father, a farmer, would tell me to bring the truck over to the "north 40." These instructions left me with an uncanny ability to rattle off north, south, east and west while using my arms as the compass needle. I'm like a man: I will get lost driving around for 30 minutes before I stop and ask for directions.
Directions, maps and everyday navigating may not be my talent, but it is something I pride myself on being semi-knowledgeable about. Bus riding is different. The RTD map might have well been my high school calculus homework: I will never fully comprehend it, and there are no real ways to cheat through it.
What I do understand is that by flashing my student ID, with an up-to-date semester sticker of course, at the bus driver, I ride free of charge and save $1.75. It's a good investment for any poor college kid and a great time to contemplate life upon graduation. Believe it or not, there is a world outside of school.
To all fellow RTD riders: look for me, I will be the one quizzically standing at the bus stop.
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