I Rode Bus 36 Bronx For A Week, And I Regret Everything. - Growth Insights
At first, the 36 felt like a lifeline. A simple route through neighborhoods where the air smells like wet asphalt and old subway grates, the bus wound through the Bronx’s intricate tapestry—between massive brick tenements, shuttered bodegas, and the steady hum of community life. But after seven days, the illusion of connection unraveled. The route wasn’t just a path; it was a mirror, reflecting the gaps in infrastructure, equity, and human design.
The 36 is more than a number. It’s a daily ritual for thousands—commuters, delivery workers, the elderly navigating pension checks, students rushing to community college. For a week, I sat beside it: the worn leather of the seat, the rhythmic clatter of wheels on steel, the way the sun filtered through cracked windshields during morning rush hour. It wasn’t glamorous. It wasn’t romantic. But it was real—rooted in the daily grind of a borough that thrives on resilience.
Behind the Seat: The Hidden Mechanics of Urban Transit
The 36 runs on a fragile ecosystem. Delays aren’t random—they stem from a labyrinth of interdependencies: track maintenance schedules, signal failures, and the chronic underfunding that gnaws at MTA operations. During peak hours, buses average only 12 minutes between stops, not because of congestion alone, but due to cascading breakdowns in a system stretched thin. A single signal malfunction can ripple across the route, turning a 15-minute ride into a 45-minute ordeal.
Riding it, I witnessed how structural flaws shape perception. A delay that starts at 149th Street doesn’t just delay one bus—it unravels the entire schedule. Commuters adjust, often at their own expense. A nurse leaving a shift, a delivery driver rushing deadlines, an elderly woman skipping a doctor’s appointment—all bearing the invisible toll of a transit network more strained than celebrated.
Why It Feels Like Regret, Not Just Fatigue
Regret isn’t about the missed bus. It’s about the erosion of trust. Every delay chips away at faith in a system meant to serve. In New York, ridership on the 36 is down 14% since 2015, despite rising demand—a paradox of underinvestment and overuse. The 36, once a symbol of Bronx mobility, now embodies a deeper crisis: cities build for people, but systems fail people.
For riders, there’s little grace. No real-time apps to soften uncertainty. No priority boarding to cushion late arrivals. Just a bus that moves on its own clock, indifferent to human schedules. The MTA’s push for “smart transit” has introduced efficiency tools—predictive maintenance, real-time tracking—but implementation remains patchy. In the Bronx, digital access is uneven; many rely on phone data plans that lag behind service updates. Technology promises progress, but not yet parity.