2.25.2011

Trainspotting, Issue No. 2 "Herding Cattle"

On a good day I actually get done work at the time I'm supposed to, 8:00pm. The problem with getting done at 8:00pm is the way NJ Transit runs its train schedule during that hour. They have trains at 8:04, 8:11 and 8:41. My building is a good 12 blocks from the station, so it's safe to say the first two trains are totally out of the question (that is, until they finally get around to inventing teleportation). So, you can only imagine my dismay waiting around for the 8:41, which doesn't get me home until 9:30pm. Grr.

Occasionally a really good day comes along when I'm able to run out of the office 5-10 minutes early and actually catch the 8:11 train. Now this rare phenomenon comes about once a week, and when it does I'm like a kid getting out of school on a half day. I rush out of the office in a windstorm, bewildering my coworkers with a faint "good-bye" shouted from down the hall and half-way out the door. It's really rather sad that five minutes determine whether I get home at 8:45 or 9:30 —and ultimately my mood for the remainder of the evening.

Well today that rare phenomenon came to fruition (as if often does on Fridays), and I was as giddy as a schoolgirl! 7:54pm struck on the clock and I was actually finished my work. I hastily logged off the computer, threw on my coat and booked it out of the office. Speedwalking my way to the subway while sucking down a much-needed cigarette, I mentally calculated the remaining minutes against my travel time to the train station. I determined there would be just enough time to make the train —even a couple of minutes to spare! So I hopped on the subway and rode it 10 blocks to Penn Station. On arrival I briskly jumped out of the car and ran down the platform to the stairwell that would ultimately bring me to the NJ Transit boarding area. I weaved in and out of the crowd, dodging strollers, the elderly and everyone else who opted to stop abruptly in front of my path (I swear they do it on purpose, just for kicks). I'm pretty sure I elbow-checked at least one person and wacked another with my umbrella, but I had my headphones on so I didn't hear any angry objections.

As I turned the corner, I eagerly looked up to the track assignment screen. There, in black and white, were the worst two words any passenger can read after sprinting several blocks and scaling three flights of stairs: Stand By. It was 8:08 and my train wasn't even in the station. Sometimes I wish they would just change it to say "delayed." The words "stand by" indicate a glimmer of hope to the less experienced rider, whereas we seasoned riders know it means "you're screwed." The smile on my face fades as I wait impatiently for the train to arrive. Some fifteen minutes later a bright and shiny "Track 8" pops up on the screen. I gleefully turn around to see a huge mass of people crowding around the track entrance, all attempting to squeeze through one door at the same time. It's really a funny sight to see; I wish I would have taken a picture, but I opted not to piss off the angry crowd any further. The best way I can describe it is herding cattle. On occasion I've been tempted to belt out a great big "moooooooo!" while shuffling amongst the herd, and I actually have at least once.

Another ten minutes tick by and I finally find myself seated on the train. Well I was so busy scrolling through my Facebook feed and sending frustrated text messages that I didn't even realize the train hadn't left the station yet. I glanced up and noticed everyone around me start to stand up. What the hell? I was so deep in my own little world that I totally missed an announcement. I ripped off my headphones just in time to catch the last few words: "...track four. This train is now out of service." Mother F***! You've got to be kidding me, right?! I should have been skipping happily through my apartment door by this time, and here I am sitting on a delayed, broken and now canceled train.

I glanced down at my phone to check the time. Oh look, I've got a few minutes left to run up and down another few stairwells to catch the frigging 8:41 train. Oh, the irony.

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