I keep my arms in.
I refrain from being that person who assaults the one TTC worker of the day.
I give up my seat to the old ladies.
I don't run on the streetcar tracks.
I don't run after the streetcars.
I don't even try to enter TTC premises illegally to grab streetcars for free from Bathurst station.
I'd inform a TTC operator if I dropped anything on the subway tracks.
I take ATM and currency exchange fee hits just to pay for my weekly card in cash, because the TTC doesn't accept VISA or any other card except Canadian debit, which foreigners wouldn't have.
I wait and say "You're welcome" every time the TTC has a "disruption of service," because the overhead voice keeps thanking me for my patience.
I wait for the next bus when I get yelled at by moody TTC drivers, some of whom have asked me if I can read English.
I understand that a 20 minute-car ride to Finch will somehow take four hours on the TTC.
If I need to be somewhere at a certain time because I'll get fired otherwise, I still take the TTC even though that'll be the day the Yonge line North decides to cease service for 30 minutes.
I even spent 34 minutes today listening to a Chinese woman with Tourette's yell obscenities at every other person who boarded our train.
You know, I pay $3.25 USD each way for all that because I don't have another choice.
So thanks, TTC, for taking my money, making me work to give you money, and reminding me why socialism doesn't always work.