I write this on a shaking train with my magnification at around 150% because, anything less, and I can't see because the tray my poor little shaken MacBook is on has fallen victim to the bumpy tracks of the American mid-to-south west. The Allegheny Mountains are curvy and terrifying in their own regard, but the quality of smoothness really starts to decline after Chicago. We've been bouncing and bumping along since Springfield.
Regardless, I felt the need to start this entry before I could sit down to the safe, smooth, un-moving front of
Blogger, incase my selective memory chooses to block out this trek of the 21
Texas Eagle.
First, a disclaimer, I know that your typical long-journey train crown is nothing by typical. There has to be something unhinged upstairs if you are willing to endure sleeping next to perfect strangers, not shower for a few days and have layovers in strange cities. I include myself in that same unhinged category, but I think Amtrak has really done it this time by putting all of the crazies interested in traveling to Texas by rail on this train.
The whole experience started out rather innocently. I met a nice college-aged couple in Unition Station in Chicago. They've done this trip before, so it was nice to be around some vetswho kow the ins and outs of Amtrak travel. I like to make small talk on the train, because, let's face it, if you don't you're going to be really lonely and nervous for the entirety of your trip. It's not worth making enemies. So, I talked to a boy who, I suppose, would fall into your typical gamer, Dungeons and Dragons sort of stereotype. (Don't hate on me for using a stereotype - it's the best way I can think to describe him to you folks over the intarwebz)
Apparently, this small talk was a big mistake. He presumed to follow me to my seat, asking me if I was traveling alone and would I like someone to keep me company for the next 19 hours. I told him that it seemed I would have a seat to myself at least for a little while and wanted to catch up on sleep I didn't get the night before on the train from Martinsburg. Had it been me, I would have given up there.
I have a killer intuition. I know creepy when it addresses me.
A few hours later, I'm minding my own business, enjoying
Three Cups of Tea and listening to a little bit of
Belle & Sebastian on my iPod. He comes over and ists down and proceeds to make small talk with me about music and other such things. He's an aspiring romance writer. His friends tell him he writes good smut. He asked if I was a fan of Vivaldi. I'm not, really. He asked how I could not be a fan of Vivaldi, especially
"The Four Seasons." I tell him that if you've ever been involved in music on any kind of scholastic level "The Four Seasons" get overplayed like Britney Spears' "Womanizer" (I wish I had thought of that one during the conversation). In an attempt to change my Vivaldi opinion, he puts his headphones on me and has me listen to some Vivaldi piano. Then, he starts to air-piano.
I know many a piano player, I've dated a piano player and as far as I'm concerned, they never air-piano when they are trying to win friends. At this point, I was beyond creeped out.
I'm texting the boyfriend at this point, telling him he needs to call me. I
tweeted for someone, anyone, to call me. My prayers and tweets were answered and my air-pianoing Vivaldi friend went back to his seat.
I napped and ate a small bag of chips. I talked to my friend from Union Station and he said he and his girlfriend were laughing at the air-piano small talk while my friend was visiting. The couple in front of me made fun of me. A drunk lady a few rows up began yelling something about over-priced sandwiches, I believe.
Then, my friend came back. At this point, I'm playing some puzzle games on my Nintendo DS. I was very busy. He sat down again and began to ask the only question anyone who knows me know I should never be asked...
"So, are you into anime at all?"
My high school boyfriend gave me a terrible fear of anime, Dungeons and Dragons and all things role-play a number of years ago. Knowledge of this is still an object of torture my friends use against me at random moments of weakness. I responded with what was probably a too-terse no, and the boy still asked me to join him for dinner.
At this point, he hadn't asked me anything to get to know me (including my name) and I previously made reservations in the dining car for 7:30.
The drunk lady is now yelling at people to be quiet, hitting the poor man next to her and telling him to sit up because the train is under attack. People are yelling back at her and f***ing b****es are exchanged. Those of is in my gloriously empty car are told that we will end up with seat buddies for the rest of the journey because we're getting rid of the last passenger car in St. Louis. I go to dinner and the ladies I am sitting with complain about every aspect of the meal. Drunk lady is gone when I return.
My new seat buddy and his family seem normal, however. Seat buddy father is currently tabbing his Bible and his wife and daughter across the aisle are crocheting and watching a movie.
Thank you, God.
It's now 10:00 and I can't imagine anything else interesting will happen for the evening. I shall publish this when I have the Internet and a less-shaky surface to edit on.
Oh, and my anime friend? He'll be on my four-hour bus from Longview to Houston.
