Commuter Rail: The Continuing Adventures

Sometimes I feel like I live in one of those books from the Choose Your Own Adventure series. I read one while I was in elementary school. As I recall, each time I came to a crucial decision ("To make a decision that will lead to certain death, turn to page 97; otherwise, turn to page 38"). Silly me, I always chose page 97 even though I new it would result in my character puncturing his environmental suit on a rock and collapsing in convulsions as the toxic atmosphere of the planet Xarx devoured his flesh.

On Tuesday I left the office at 5:30 with the intent of catching the 5:40 Trax. This is a four minute trip, so I stopped by the restroom on the way. Two minutes later, I was out of the restroom and standing at the elevator when I happened to glance out the window that looks down on Main Street and saw the train already there - five minutes early. I frantically pushed the button to the elevator, and once inside started jumping up and down in the box trying to get it to go down even faster, all the while cursing myself for having dried my hands after I washed them in the restroom (I could have used the extra weight). To no avail. In my head, I heard, "If you choose to use the restroom and so miss your train and get stuck at your office for another 45 minutes, turn to page 97."

Now, I like my job, but we have an I-like-you-but-want-to-spend-as-little-time-with-you-as-possible relationship. Kind of like some of my dance dates in high school. That being the case, I didn't really feel inclined to go back up stairs, but at the same time didn't want to waste the time just waiting for the next bus and I didn't trust myself in Sam Wellers across the street. Ultimately, though, I wanted to get home and see my family. So, I cinched up the strap on my brief case, untucked my shirt from my slacks, and started running. Fifteen minutes later I reached the Frontrunner station. My pride forces me to insert here that I beat the Trax.

Enter Wednesday evening. I left my office at 6:00 with the intent of catching the 6:10 train. Again, I stopped by the restroom on the way. Again, the train arrived five minutes early and I jumped up and down in the elevator trying to make it go faster. Again, I missed the train. Again, I ran, though this time I caught the traffic lights better so did it in ten minutes. See page 97 for details.

Thursday I left the office at 4:55 to catch the 5:10 train. I ran down the hall, passing the restroom, still jumped up and down in the elevator, and ran across the lobby and to the Gallivan Plaza station.

The train was late by five minutes.

mw