Author: Nicole Biton

Dearest TCAT,

We need to talk.

I had a rough morning today. You see, I was up and ready to walk to the bus stop for my morning class on central. I live off-campus – just far enough to make walking and arriving to class nearly impractical and incompatible goals – so I really rely on you most days to get me where I need to go. It was a slow morning, but I only left my house a minute later than usual—nothing to worry about, considering you usually come a minute or two after the scheduled time. But imagine my surprise when, halfway from the bus stop, I saw you pull up to the corner and open your doors. I started sprinting, the heaviness of my backpack weighing me down, but it was too late: before my still sleep-worn eyes, I watched you pull away, leaving me with no chance of arriving at my first class on time.

To say that this was “not cool” would be an understatement.

I mean, this sounds like something that would only happen in a bad dream, right? Like this is a straight-up clichéd bad dream that Cornellians might have the night before a prelim or the first day of classes. But sadly, this series of unfortunate events legitimately occurred, and continues to occur almost daily.

I know I shouldn’t be too surprised. After all, it has almost become a Cornellian rite of passage to be personally victimized by the TCAT system. Legends of buses pulling away when sprinting students are mere feet away from its not-yet-closed doors, or driving past major campus stops have been whispered throughout these halls for years. In Ithaca’s inclement weather especially, these altercations can be heartbreaking, if not traumatizing, occurrences that make the winters all the more unbearable.

But in spite of everything we’ve been through, I really thought that we had settled our beef – that the new school year had turned over a new leaf for us and that you’d finally quit playing these games. Now here I am again, asking myself what has become almost an adage amongst students: “How is the TCAT always late when I’m early, but leaves early when I’m late?” If you can come up with an explanation for me, please. Elaborate.

Don’t get me wrong, we’ve had some good times together. Like when you magically appear just as the sky opens up to rain or snow, thereby rescuing me from walking in unconscionably gross weather. And when I was in that walking boot last year, you truly were my saving grace. I don’t mean to sound unappreciative; in fact, I have a lot to be grateful to you for, and I acknowledge that.

Maybe on another morning this wouldn’t have been so bad. Maybe I would have just shrugged it off, swallowed the pride of my exceptional laziness and distaste for exercise, walked, and moved on with my day – literally. But I was sleep deprived just three weeks into school, completely stressed out and not in the mood to arrive to class sweaty from my long schlep to Central. Added to an already mediocre morning, your transgression was just enough to ruin my morning and set the tone for my day.

You let me down today, TCAT. But I have faith that by winter, we can turn things around. Because you may not need me then, but I’m really going to need you.

So see you tomorrow?