Sorry I forgot to provide an account of my experiences on Day 2 of A World Without DeCamp. My commute was so uneventful, it slipped my mind. While DeCamp management and striking workers were beating each other up, my train was picking me up and depositing me on time, without incident. As should always be the case.
This is the question I pondered as I stood on my standing-room-only bus into work this morning.
DeCamp is looking out for DeCamp. ATU Local 1317, the union representing DeCamp's employees, is looking out for the workers, who, we are told in melodramatic signage, have been "pushed to the brink."
What about me, and other customers like me, who suffer poor service, unresponsiveness, and downright hostility from DeCamp and its frontline employees, the drivers and dispatchers, on a regular basis?
If I were to post a little handmade sign, a la DeCamp and ATU Local 1317, asserting the POV of many customers, this is what it would say: Fuck you, DeCamp. And fuck you, ATU Local 1317. Maybe I'll return when you decide to come back to work -- in the meantime, of course, I have to work to pay for things like healthcare that most of us in the private sector do not enjoy at absurdly subsidized rates, unlike most union workers, who seem to view free healthcare as a birthright -- and maybe I won't.
Honestly, midway through the above, I had thoughts of suicide. But by the end, with DeCamp exhorting me in all caps and with no fewer than 11 exclamation points, I thought, why not throw caution to the wind? I'm going to clean out my bank account, take a bus to some god-awful Pennsylvania town, and lose it all in a slot machine! Then I can kill myself.