The mile-long-Memorial-Day-train story

Everything started off great on my trip home to New York, with the conductor greeting me at the platform in Old Saybrook, Connecticut, knowing my name and giving me my ticket receipt.  All very pleasant and civilized.  With the electronic ticket option on Amtrak, the conductors can scan digital tickets from your phone, and they have a passenger list of who is boarding and disembarking at each stop.  

"Where you getting off?"
"New Rochelle."
"Ok, you must be Ros-a-lynn?"
So close..."That's right!"

I was directed toward the front of very crowded 10+ car train for available seats.  

I find a seat, plug in my phone and catch up on news and Netflix.  An uneventful two hours later, my stop is announced as coming up, and I go to the door and wait in between the train cars.  But the doors do NOT OPEN.   I wait calmly.  NOT OPENING.  Next I hear, "All aboard!  Next stop is...Penn station!"

And now I know I should be off the train already, so I start panicking and running back through the train hoping that the next car has an open door. 

And then the train starts MOVING. 

Now there is no way I can afford to miss this stop--it's already after 9:30 pm and it's raining and I can't spare another two hours of train travel or another ticket to get home from the commuter's nightmare in the city that is currently Penn Station. 

And I'm confused because when only certain train car doors will be opening at a stop, the conductors usually make an announcement about where to exit!

I make a quick but wobbly sprint with my duffle bag and backpack down the aisle and find a conductor standing in the next car.  I tell him that I need to get off--that this is my stop and the doors didn't open. 

"Don't worry, we got you," he says.

He gets on the radio and asks for a "safe stop" and then he says, "Follow me, we have to go to the last car to try to make the platform."  And then he starts running.  Like, fast.  I try to keep up but there's no way I can, especially with my luggage, so I fall back at least a car length behind him.

These holiday travelers are not helping by blocking my way in the one-way aisle of the train cars!  After the conductor squeezes past them--even though they can clearly see me, a panicking female version of Kevin James ala King of Queens, running with a duffle bag sticking straight out in front of me-- they continue to block the aisle. 

"Excuse me, I have to get off, 'scuse me, 'SCUSE ME, this is my stop!  I'm banging into feet, elbows, luggage--small children--anything sticking out in the aisle as well as bumping my bag straight into the people coming my way who have just boarded.   Hey, you with your headphones on and your back to me, please move! I'm trying to get off the train!

I can see that my unburdened 6-foot conductor is fairing much better. He is fit and formidable with his uniform sleeves rolled up into a pocket for his cigarettes and showing off some serious tattooing.  At one point he finally looks back and decides to come and take the duffle from me and shoot ahead. 

Now, I'm not sure if the train can't wait for more than a minute or how much time we have, but we've run through car after car at this point and I am both worried and winded...

Didn't I just read in the train magazine that these cars can be 80 to 100 feet long?  How many cars could there be on this train? (puff, puff) 

Oh look, that guy is watching Deadpool...funny.

I think this is five or six cars I've counted already? Omg, it feels like a mile! 

Thank goodness he took my duffle bag. (puff, puff)  

Ugh, that smells...is someone eating fish on this train? 

Ok, not a mile, obviously there are five thousand feet in a mile. (puff, puff) So this is probably more like...a football field?    

Oh, someone in here is listening to Hips Don't Lie..Shakira, Shakira!  

So then, maybe this is like two football fields, this is the 7th car!

Still no open door.  And then the train jerks to a stop and my thoughts are interrupted by the sight of my helpful conductor falling on the metal floor in between the cars ahead of me.  Oh no, he fell!?

I watched in slow motion as he clearly slipped in a small rain puddle near the train door....one leg went back into a half split and one hand reached forward, yet he managed to tuck, roll and lift my bag up high...and to keep it dry!  He went down kind of hard, and I felt bad asking somewhat guiltily, "Are you okay?" after hopping over him and taking my bag back.

He's grabbing his foot but smiles, shakes his head yes and says, "just keep running, just keep going!" 

Now, maybe he said this to me in a pained falsetto, but for some reason I heard it in Dory's just-keep-swimming-voice.

And we all know how hard it is to run when you are having a giggling fit (especially if you are me trying to run after a week of birthday indulgences...or if you think a grown man just quoted you a line from a Disney movie in a voice that sounded like Ellen Degeneres.)

Just keep running, just keep running...haha (puff, puff) don't laugh!   just keep going...just keep going ... you're slowing down...haha, am I laughing because the conductor fell and I didn't?  I don't know!  Goodness, this bag is heavy!  (puff, puff)  Is this situation funny?  haha, no, not really!

I pass 10, 11, 12 cars?  Are you kidding me? Is this some kind of never-ending train dream?  

I finally get to a stern looking conductor who has been waiting in the last car and I take one final step out the door and onto the end of the platform.   I made it! 

I'm out of breath and pointing and I think I'm saying words trying to let this conductor know there's a man down back there...but he slides the door shut and the train pulls away.

Ok, whatever, pal.  It's not my fault the doors didn't open.

That was definitely my first mad dash on the Inside of a train ...

So now, 12 cars X 80 feet, how many football fields is that? 

😉