It’s a big leap from a one-hour train ride to a 13-hour train ride, but here we are. Usually, I make the drive–which ends up being around 8-12 hours–between Alliance, OH and Hempstead, NY, but Watsky’s x Infinity music videos are premiering in NYC on Dec. 15, and I didn’t want to drive.
I’m sitting in seat 39 or 40. Patrick–who’s been sleeping for the last six or so hours–snores next to me. Every now and then, he shifts, inching closer to my side of the seat. He’s taken my sweater hostage. I’ve been reading, typing, and napping, all while listening to music through tangled headphones I was too indifferent to fumble with.
Taking the train is much different than riding in a motorcoach. On motorcoaches, they want you to spend the money on their trips. They want to show you new places and provide you a stable environment to see new things from the comfort of a gaggle of old ladies and their partially deaf husbands. The tour guides never quite stop smiling, and even the bus driver cracks jokes from the front of the bus. On trains, they know that you don’t want to drive. They’re here to provide you with the independence and convenience that you’re here for. The conductors thus far have all been dour and male. I wonder if they came as a matching set.
Patrick starts to wake up and grabs for his phone.
Over the intercom, a woman says, “We can’t get the cafe doors open. I just wanted you to know that we can’t get the cafe doors open.”
Behind me, one of the conductors says, “The doors are frozen shut.”
The woman next to me says, “If you can’t deliver the people, they’re not going to pay for the tickets,” trailing off into a chuckle.
Only five more hours.
I want my sweater back.