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| Stolen from phil-are-a-go.blogspot |
Cookie loves the train, to a point.
The train is so much better than driving, and frankly it's so much easier than a plane.
Where the train loses its luster is that a conductor is not a flight attendant.
And the food service on Amtrak's horribly misnamed "Cafe Car", which is really vending machine quality food, served by a person. The delights are all microwaved, and on a six hour ride, you get about three hours of service.
So when you compare airliner food - and yes, you do get food service in the air in First Class - to this garbage, being x-rayed, patted down and otherwise having to disrobe is a worth it.
People on the train are a different sort. Some are quiet and some are not.
On yesterday's train, we started off well, good internet reception, and then we started hearing so young college student running his mouth about politics. He's at that age where he has every answer, and knows everything. And he yabbered for a full hour, complaining about Liberals the entire way.
At the next stop, an Orthodox Rabbi decided to sit in front of us. When a young lady got on at the next stop, she sat next to him. Which made him get up and move.
Three stops later we were at a major crew change spot, so we moved to a different car, that had been refurbished. Nice leather seating. Better WiFi.
BUT, at the first station, a couple in their fifties got on and that's where the fun started.
They were loud. They were soused. And they were loud and soused.
"I'm telling you that that bastard wanted to feel my bosom. My Bosom. BOSOM," said the woman. "He was running a casting couch. I just wanted to get a job dancing, and he wanted to audition my...." she trailed off.
"What bosom? You're as flat as the earth was before Columbus discovered it was round."
They both laughed.
It wasn't funny, but they thought it was. As the trip progressed, the outbursts got more bizarre.
"Are you fucking serious? Marc Chagall was a better artist than Jackson Pollock?"
"You," says she, "are a fucking moron. A monkey could paint like Pollock. Chagall was, was..." she lost her way, and refound it when she bellowed out "DIAPHANOUS!"
"No. You mean ephemeral."
"No, his art is lasting. I meant that is style ethereal!"
"STOP IT! I CAN'T TAKE THIS!" he screamed.
All of car went silent, save for the sound of speed from the undercarriage.
They settled back down.
About five minutes later the conductor walked through and asked if there were any more outbursts. I shook my head.
"They're bombed and I think they passed out cold," he said. "Which means I'm going to have to wake them soon.
He need not have worried. Soon we heard her coo "You were so handsome. What happened?"
"You. Bad theater. Twyla Tharp."
"Yeah, I never liked her, either."
"She's the one who's gotten old."
"You like Alvin's dance programs, didn't you," she asked.
I assumed that she meant Alvin Ailey, and she did, but the life of the party was back.
"Yeah, those Chipmunks were all alright."
"God Moe, you are killing me," she said in a Lucky Stripe raspy laugh.
These two weren't your average couple who had ingested too much booze. These people were interesting, they knew their arts and that was fascinating to...
"Excuse me," I heard.
I turned around and it was, I guessed, "Moe".
"Me and the Mrs. haven't had a smoke since we got on this truck and we really need a smoke - you got a Kool on you?"
I explained, that no, neither of us smoked.
"Thanks anyhow," he said. "Hey Doll," he called back to the woman lying on the seat, "you're going have to wait until the stop." I watched as Moe bounced back to his seat.
In ten minutes, they were off the train. Things got very quiet for the last 100 miles.
I wondered if they were going back to a some cold water flat, or something far more expensive than I could afford. Most likely it was something in between, nondescript, but I bet they had the walls heavy with art and a forty year old stereo for their vinyl.
I wondered if in a few years the husband I will have our madcap moments, but the truth of the matter is that we are far more introverted and structured. Our art doesn't match the sofa, but it also wouldn't thrill the avant garde.
And this is why I love the train. Amtrak really is the great equalized, as long as you stay out of the quiet car.
They are freaking insane in there.
I travelled across the country by train in 1971. I saved the placemat.
ReplyDeleteDo you think it's worth anything?
You don't get a placemat now. The food comes in a box.
Deleteok, I loves my trains. I sit in the quiet car cause I don't wanna hear the idiots bloviate. I carry on my own food & drink. I did a cross-country trip in 1991 and LOVED IT.
ReplyDeleteHere's my thing with the quiet car. It's the quiet car, but too many people act like it's the SILENCE CAR. Boot up your computer, and the volume is as low as you can get it and the hard drive whirring into action makes the nostrils of the old man across the aisles flare with rage. "This is the quiet car!" he hisses, and then sticks the New York Times Review of Books back up to his face.
Deletenever got that reaction before. pissy old bastard!
DeleteThe oddest experience for me was Chicago to New Orleans about 5 years ago. Somewhere in southern Illinois in the dark of night we hear a woman shout from the back of the car, “IF YOU TOUCH ME ONE MORE TIME I’M CALLING THE CONDUCTOR!” I think the perv backed off after that announcement.
ReplyDeleteThe absolute best rail trip for me was the Eurostar from Florence to Naples. Beautiful Italian men in crisp uniforms serving the finest dining experience. Unfortunately not a perv amongst them.
At one point on the journey, an agitated woman was pacing up and down the aisle, on her cell phone, telling the person sher was speaking to that "I'm looking for a conductor right now." She eventually calmed down and left the train with a young man.
DeleteI've taken the same route as Hayward: Chicago to New Orleans and back.
ReplyDeleteI often travel by train; always packing enough food and drink to last the entire voyage.
And I absolutely love it when no one takes the seat next to me.
Talk about timing for this post.
ReplyDeleteCreepy, eh. We heard about the wreck in Washington State that morning leaving the of New London station, and that was when the train sped up. 120+mph on the standard train, and then that wreck made me go to my happy place to forget how fast we were traveling.
Delete