On a very HOT and HUMID 99 degree day last month the train I was scheduled to take was 90 minutes late. The three Amtrak employees at the counter couldn’t agree on the reason it was late or exactly when it was coming. Okay.
And so the train came and we ticket holders lined up and followed a uniformed person to a particular car where a conductor waited to give us our assigned seat number. After everyone was settled in, I realized it was COLD! in the train. I looked at the the woman across from me bundled in a blanket, and noticed that other passengers were wearing hooded sweatshirts. When the conductor passed by again I asked the reason for such a COLD train. She said it was frigid (that word didn’t help any) because there’s a flaw in the design, the thermometer was put outside the train. Okay.
Then she announced the reason for the train’s lateness. She said it had to move very slowly coming from Florida because when it’s an extremely hot day, a fire could start on the tracks. We’ll continue at a slow pace, she said. Okay.
I brought no lunch, so I went to the snack bar car hoping that the food had improved since the last time I ordered food on an Amtrak train. There was a limited sandwich selection, I chose the one that might have possibilities. The woman behind the counter said because of customer complaints she put all those sandwiches away. Okay.
The snack bar car was full, maybe because it was warmer there than anywhere else (warmer, not warm). Finally I returned to the COLD car. When the conductor passed I asked whether there was any place on the train warmer than the car we’re in now? She said I could try to find that place when we reached Washington. Okay.
The woman sitting behind me tapped my shoulder and asked if I’d like to wear her sweatshirt and scarf. She had on a jacket. I am forever grateful to her because after mentally scanning my suitcase, I accepted that it held nothing to warm a body.
As we approached Washington, the conductor announced, “If you get off this train and go upstairs, remember one thing: the train didn’t leave you; you left the train.” She repeated this many times. And so I concluded that quite a few people are left behind. There was at least a 45 minute wait in DC while the train changed from diesel to electric. The train is completely stopped, lights are off, passengers are walking on the platform, or standing inside – there’s plenty of time to do nothing during the wait. Time to leave DC.
Finally, my stop. The conductor sings as she says goodbye. And as I walk from the train to the station a tad bit hungry and a little cold, thinking that it could have been an awfully unpleasant train ride. That didn’t happen though because of a very witty conductor who never let up, and, I’ll generalize and say, the best group of fellow passengers anywhere.
There’s something about train traveling that’s soothing. I’ve noticed that passengers come on trains with their own kind of feeling, and the feeling depends on the place where they’re boarding. For instance, some people who board at Penn Station in Manhattan tend to bring into the train a rather tense energy. It’s not until they’ve settled in, loosened their clothing, taken out a laptop, magazine, book, notepad, reclined their seat to rest, or taken out a snack quickly bought that that nervous energy slowly dissipates, and they can breathe a sign of relief.
Ticket please.