Monday, October 16, 2006

I Think I Can, I Think I Can

Didn't get to post much last week as I was travelling on bidness and was too lame to fight with the 'puter whilst on the road.

Now despite my many travels and travails, I have never taken a train to a destination. Unless you're counting the monorail to the Epcot Center. So I decided I'd save Virtucon the $900 to fly for a two day trip and take a 4 hour train ride instead. I could have driven, but because I wanted a bit of adventure and didn't want to hassle with downtown parking, the Great Train Experiment was launched.

As I had never Amtracked, I was pleasantly surprised. Getting on the train was surprising easy. You grab your bags (and don't even need to show a ticket to get onboard), get your seat and go to it. The seats were surprisingly large--much, much bigger than a plane. And because the typical train traveller isn't that plentiful, everyone who wanted their own row had one. Most folks were sprawled out sleeping for the 7:30 am departure. There were also electrical outlets so you could plug in and do some work or some iPodding and GameBoying.

I had just settled in and was enjoying the new experience when the Great Adventure came to a halt. There had been a derailment up ahead so we had to take a bus the rest of the way. Woo hoo. Yup, you should have driven, dummy.

Now because there were several cars on the train, I had somehow missed the guy who I got seated next to on the bus. And I'm not sure how I missed him in the station because he was definitely someone who was hard to overlook. His attire consisted of:
  • black and white zebra-striped Chuck Taylor hi tops (these had to be homemade)
  • grey thermal long johns
  • brown leather shorts
  • black and white plaid flannel shirt
  • black hooded sweatshirt
  • black leather jacket with silver studs on the shoulders
  • black fingerless gloves (which obscured just enough of the tops of his knuckles so I couldn't read his tattoo of letter on each finger
  • spiked hair (black naturally)
  • back of neck tattoo which looked kind of like barbed wire but was supposed to be some sort of symbol
  • a wispy hanging beard (not a van dyke but more of a Shaggy on just the chin)
  • an even wispier moustache

And he rocked back and forth and bobbed his head. This began before he started listening to his CD player. It continued for the remainder of the trip.

I was a little disappointed that Spike (I so named him) never talked to me. Sure I wasn't dressed like Sid Vicious, but I'm a rebel at heart. It's not like I was wearing a suit and tie. And I know that he'd have somehow worked "Rock and Roll" into something he said. And I would have responded with "Smooth Jazz." Bless you, Greg Warren.

The train ride home was uneventful. Thank you sweet baby jebus for taking pity on me after two days of business meetings and my having to pretend to be responsible, normal and not evil.

Except for that time I freaked the couple on the elevator out. They were staying on the 14th floor and I told them it was really the 13th floor but they just skipped a number to trick people. That was just evil light.

I will now return to my appointed toil and try not to focus on either the Tigers quest for the World Series, the Lions first win or the Spartans descent into hellishness.

Happy Monday.


Kate The Great said...

Actually, those Chuck Taylors are circa 1991. I know someone who had them... This was the same era they came out with glow in the dark CTs and Hypercolor.

Yeah, I'm down with classic early 90s fashion.

Kim said...

So you're saying you didn't get his number for me?

What good are you?

t2ed said...

kim, I think his number is 666.