not my lucky night

Last night it looked like I was going to get out of work earlier. I packed up my stuff at 5 pm and ran for the bus, hoping to get to the train station in time to hop onto the 5:26. I missed it by two minutes.

The next train was the 5:49, so I waited around with my Sudoku and got on when the train pulled into the station at about 5:38. The guy who sat next to me had a crunchy leather coat that made a lot of noise every time he moved. I started reading my book.

At about 5:55, the train stopped, which is odd for an express train that usually doesn't make its first stop for about thirty minutes. The loudspeaker announced there was an accident up ahead and that they had no other information. Everyone grumbled a little, but for the most part we figured it'd just be a few minutes, like when there are track issues.

After six, a woman in our car called someone she knew who was on that 5:26 train. It seemed the train hit a car and the car was on fire. The lady in our car was speaking very loudly to relay the news to everyone sitting nearby.

At 6:30 the loudspeaker came on and essentially announced what we heard from our fellow passenger, adding that not only did the car get hit by the incoming train, but it was pushed into the path of the outbound train and hit again before it caught on fire. The fire department was putting out the blaze and we couldn't proceed until the police released the track. Leather Jacket told his wife on the phone that he was "effing annoyed" and was turning his newspaper pages in a huff.

At 7 pm, I decided to take a nap. But Leather Jacket was shifting around a lot. Noisily. I thought to myself, Self, this guy seems like he's a nicotine addict in need of a smoke.

At 7:30, I realized that there was a draft coming from my window (emergency exit) and wrapped myself in my hat and scarf. Leather jacket took out some gum and started chewing it in frustration. He started to relax. I'm willing to bet it was the nicotine kind.

At 8 pm, both Leather Jacket and I were leaning forward, snoozing into our hands. So were some other people. It was as though we were in a disaster drill or something.

At 8:30, the announcer said no one was hurt in the accident and that we might be moving soon. However, because we were on the center track, we would not be able to let anyone off earlier than the original scheduled stops. All of the people who were frantically trying to arrange pickups at various stops groaned.

At 8:45, we started moving. Then we stopped. More groans. Leather Jacket was on his third piece of gum and in a jolly mood. He began to tell me that the last time a train he was on hit somebody, the person didn't make it and that the transit authority actually let people off during the cleanup. He said police were walking around, covering things up here and there. It took me a second to process that. He was three hours late to work that morning.

At 9 pm, I got to my stop. A full two hours and forty minutes later than I was supposed to have reached my destination. I had spent more than three hours sitting in the same position. Fortunately, the buses were all lined up and waiting for us, so I still had a way home.

So the first night in more than a week that I had a chance to get home at a decent time, a drunken 72-year-old gets stuck in my homeward path. I'm happy he was pulled from the car before the trains hit, but it sure did throw off my evening.