I walked down to the Go station to catch the 9:47 train into Union Station, downtown Toronto. It's a 50 minute ride, and the same train I caught yesterday. I was heading into town for a second rendezvous with Missy, my beautiful friend from teenage years. As I purchase the ticket, I notice round trip and day ticket were the same price. I inquire about the difference. Round trip could be used any time; day is unlimited but only for a day. Seeing how I was only going in now, and coming back later the same day, then leaving Whitby forever, it didn't seem to matter. I took the day pass.
I remember from the day before that the train takes a bend just prior to entering Union Station. There is a cool view of the Toronto skyline a la the New York skyline, on the IRT-7 train in Queens. I photographed that one, and was ready to do this one as well. But just as I snap the picture, a tree passes in front of my window. I try again. This time I get a billboard. O well...
No sooner do we arrive at Union Station, my cell rings. It is Lynn, from New England Satellite. A storm is coming, they want me out of their asap and start driving back. I'm working for them; they hired me to be their driver, so I do have to comply. But I explain my situation. The truck is still in the repair bay at Andrews in Whitby, I still got my stuff in a hotel room, and I just stepped off a train an hour away from said hotel. All that is taken into account, but they still wanted me on the road by 4:30 if at all possible. I'm bummed. I might have to cancel lunch with dear Missy. She works clear across town. It's a 30+ min. subway ride, plus a 2km bus, so it will take close to an hour to even get to her.
First I call the Andrews...They are perplexed at my request to cease their operation on the Satellite Dish, and get the truck ready to roll asap. Even with that, they said it would not be ready to go until 4:30. Well, that bides some time. I can still squeeze this lunch in if Missy can move up her time off.
She works with 2 other women, and they do rotating lunch. We arranged for her to be the 3 rd...this way nobody waiting for her to return and being a wee bit late wouldn't be so bad. But now she had to switch. It's doable, and we can still make it work.
I still have about an hour to kill before our lunch date, and wonder about Toronto taking photos. I call D from a public phone booth. Toronto has lots of public phone booths...and I mean real booths. The kinkd of thing that you stand inside and close the door behind you. I haven't seen one of these in about 30 years.
After the call, I hop the Yonge Street subway line for my planned rendezvous with Missy. But now she is under pressure to return precisely on time; I'm under pressure to catch a specific commuter rail, and in fact need a ride back to the subway in order to catch that train.
Of course we were happy to see each other, and still had some giggle time and stuff, but the work stress kept it from really being 
relaxing. At least we have the previous evenings' dinner to remember fondly.
I get to Union station and try to find what track my train is on. Whitby, though, is not listed. It is just a stop on the line. But which line? I realized I had no idea. I have to get the necessary information from the ticket counter.
There's still 12 minutes before my train leaves. Enough time to get two quick calls in, one to Missy, my last of the 25 cents canadian pay-phone calls, and one to D, from same booth, but with the calling card.
I get back to the Hotel at 3:47, well past check out. They tell me the cleaning staff is already gone, and they'd have to charge me for the room. 
C'est la vie.
I spend a half hour packing my bags, and getting the last bit of Canadian c-span..forget what it's called... Canadian mainstream media is very cool and refreshing. The news is not filled with Terrorist fear, or drug-war hysteria. Among the stories going on while I was there was a judge wanting to order random drug testing of Toronto's police force. (There is no work-force drug testing in Canada). The mayor publicly opposed the idea. He questioned, "How can we ask the police to defend the Charter of Rights (Canada's version of the Bill of Rights), if we violate their privacy Rights?"
Another story involved a WallMart in Quebec, where the employees unionized 6 months ago. The store was recently closed down, employees laid off. The CBC got the head of WallMart Canada on the phone and asked if the unioned employees was the reason for closing the store. He denied the accusation, saying that it was strictly a business decision. He was then asked how many other WallMarts are unionized in North America. His answer was none. The reporter asked, "Don't you think this sends a chilling message to your employees if they consider organizing a union?" At least these laid off workers in Quebec will not lose their health care. Anyway, back to my story...
I check out and give the desk clerk the key. I feel slightly guilty for the extra lodging expense, so instead of calling a taxi, I strap my 2 shoulder bags on me and huff up to the bus stop. Another deal. 50 cents Canadian. See, real government subsidies are a nice thing...
I arrive at Andrews precicely at 4:30. I walk into the bay, and see 2 guys still up top fiddling with the Dish. "We're just about done. 10 minutes," one of them yells down to me. I drop my bags in the cab of the truck, and head to the employee cafe. There are 4 guys sitting around a table. Two I've met the previous day, so they of course ask about my exploits. Being the foreigner from the dominant culture, they all had to let me know of their various experiences with crossing into the USA, or what they think of the country. It led to a lively and friendly conversation of the pros and cons of our two nations. Great fun. But of course, they were at work and eventually had to return from their coffee break.
Now I'm alone. I catch up on my logs, check maps, read one of my books, and fall asleep. Next thing I know, it is 5:30, the guys who were working on the dish come into the room very apologetic, and inform me that the truck is not going to be driveable before noon the next day.
OI!
They call a taxi for me. I go back to the hotel and ask for my key back. "I already paid for the room...I figure I might as well use it." The desk clerk is amuzed. I drop my bags, and decide to jump back on a train to Toronto. Good thing I bought that day pass.
Trains are little scarcer now, only running once an hour, and the next train is in 20 minutes. How perfect is that. I do realize I have to spend another almost 2 hours on these trains, totaling 3:30 for the day, but I figure it's gotta be better then sitting around a hotel room and knocking about exciting Whitby. Besides these trains are kinda fun. They are all double deck, with a single mezzanine at either end...sort of split level. I went for the top every time. Big clean windows, smooth comfortable ride, with seats grouped for 4, 2 by 2 facing each other. Heading in bound at this time, I was the only person in my car for most of the ride.
It's dark and snowing. Not much to look at this time though. I read.
The fact that it is snowing doesn't mean much in Canada. They are used to it, and have the equipment to deal with it. The streets and parking lots around the Go stations were all clear.
Back on Yonge Street, in downtown Toronto again. I am becoming quite familiar with this section of town. I find a funky, neat bar/restaurant called the Pickle Barrel. I dine alone, and think of Tom Paxton (Victoria dines alone with greens and potatoes...) There is a woman at the table behind me also dinning alone. I muze at the thought of starting up a conversation, just to have company during dinner, but of course I don't.
After dinner, I wonder further up Yonge street, through the snow to a Cyber cafe. I have not been on e-mail since I started this journey. It's only 3 bucks an hour, and for me, that's like 2 bucks....so it's almost free. I send out a group message "Still in Toronto..." to radio collegues and friends, also a couple of short personal messages, and answer lots of others. Linda was on line at the time, and we get into some live chat. She wanted me to call her, but cell roaming charges made that too expensive.
After the cyber cafe, I return to Yonge Street and start walking back to Union. I'm not really aware of the time...5 blocks from Union, I catch eye of a clock. It is 11:25, the last train back to Whitby is 11:30. I tuck my shoulder bag under my arm like a football, and double-time it through the snow and the red lights (people don't j-walk in Toronto...sort of like San Francisco, where I was just 2 weeks earlier...but I digress).
I get into Union Station at 11:29, scramble for a video screen, catch a track number, run up the stairs of the platform 2 at a time, jump on the train, which is certainly much more crowded then the one I came in on, head up to an upper deck seat and plop in. I am "seriously" out of breath, and sweating.But I am on the train. Before I could catch my breath, we were moving. ................