The Friday Night Commute Home
So I needed to make the New Jersey Transit 5:16 train to get to a Chiropractor appointment. I get back to the office with enough time to pack up and head downstairs to catch the train in Penn Station.
I decide to make a pit stop at the restrooms before I go. As I’m about to walk in, I hear a tapping on the glass doors that lead to the elevator banks. (I’m thinking: I’m in a hurry, do I really have the time to potentially explain to someone why he or she can’t come in to our offices unescorted.) I break down, do the “right” thing and walk to the glass doors. I couldn’t have made a worse mistake. It’s my boss’s boss, and he’s in a chatty mood. I finally extricate myself from conversation; head back to my desk, grab my stuff and head out. I check my watch; it’s now 5:12.
As much as my building sits on top of Penn Station, I’ve never made a train in 4 minutes. But I’m thinking, “I’ve got to make a run for it as I have this appointment to make.” (At the same time, I have demons chiding me because in the back of my mind I’m thinking Chiropractology is really some black magic art that is actually a waste of money….but I’m still going, and I have major stress over it. How sadly ironic and normal;-}).
I race to the kitchen and grab my long ice pack out of the refrigerator freezer (it’s stuffed in an old gym sock). I head to the elevator banks. I see a guy standing in the center of all the elevators, head down working his blackberry. I think, “Great, he must have hit the down button already, an elevator will show up momentarily, and I’ll be on my way.” To my EXTREME disappointment, he hasn’t hit the down button. Now, I’m standing there for what seems like an eternity waiting for an elevator. There are 8 elevator banks and not one is anywhere in site. I think what are the @#$%^& mathematical chances that this could happen? Come On…8 elevators! Then my frustration turns on the guy still working his blackberry. I’m thinking what kind of idiot stands in an elevator bank on a Friday night, and doesn’t just hit the down button as a matter of course. I’m thinking they should create a law to make that an obligatory action, and those that do not comply should be dealt with severely.
An elevator finally arrives. I get on and in my mind, it’s got to be the only elevator working. I look at the clock in the elevator and it says 5:14….I have two minutes. As we stop on EACH floor, and people mosey on over to the elevator I can feel the acid pouring into my stomach. The best though are the people who come on the elevator who are still having a conversation with people not coming on. They straddle the doorway, and say to the person, outside the elevator, “Oh I’ve got to go, people are waiting”…..then they continue to talk. I think to myself, “If I had a tazer gun at this point….would I use it?”
As the elevator begins to make it’s landing, I decide to make a public service announcement to my captive audience. I explain that normally, I let women, children, or anyone challenged–mentally or otherwise, get off elevators before me. I go on to explain that’s not going to happen tonight. I have a situation and I’m going to need to be extremely rude. I apologize up front.
The elevator arrives at the ground floor, and now I’m like OJ running through the airport with my knapsack on. I make multiple apologies as I bob and weave through the crowds to get to the ground floor of Penn Station. As I near the end of a staircase, I jump the last 5 stairs to get to the NJ Transit waiting area. I’m a raving lunatic. Oh and did I mention, I have a neck brace on during this race. Suit, glasses, knapsack, neck brace - So not only am I a raving lunatic, I look like one too. I fully expect the security forces that man Penn Station to tackle and cuff me.
(If only my Chiropractor could see me now).
I look at the big board for my train. It’s actually the 5:17 Gladstone (I have a whole extra minute…an eternity in train time). It’s flashing on the screen, “All Aboard” on Track 2. (Little piece of information: For NJ Transit Trains at Penn Station there are two tracks per staircase/escalator.) I race across the crowded waiting area floor and decide to go down the steps as opposed to blowing by people on the escalator. The steps switch back multiple times before you get to the actual train platform, and by the time I get there I’m totally disoriented. And to add to my confusion, the track numbers have been ripped off the wall at the base of the steps. I race around to the trains like a whirling dervish and see a conductor standing outside a train. At the same time I see on the wall that he’s standing up against are the track numbers. They say, Tracks 3 & 4. Not Good at All. In my hurry, I’ve run down the wrong stairs. The conductor looks at me and asks what train do you want? (He’s probably praying that this lunatic is not going to be on his train.) I say, “The 5:17!” He says, “I don’t think you’re going to make that one.”
For a split second I gave up. Then in desperation, I turned around and headed back up the steps. I think I was counting on that extra eternal minute and divine intervention.
I race up the steps (much like racing up Glacier Point in Yosemite….I wish), I then race down the escalators onto Track 2. All the doors of my train are closed but the train has not left yet. I’m outside the back of the train, running forward. There are two others stragglers with me. We’re trying to get the attention of a conductor who can re-open the doors for us. We get to two of them and they’ll have no part of it. They’re acting like we’re not even there. Then in the back of my mind, I remember the head conductor on this train is an older gentleman named Bob. He’s very friendly and always helpful. I’m thinking my last chance is: “I’ve got to get to Bob!” But Bob is always in the front car. I run like I have a Grizzly Bear chasing me and get to the doorway that Bob is manning. He sees me and waves good-bye. (just joking) Bob puts his key in the door and lets me and two other people on the train. It takes off a split second later.
Bob will be rewarded at Xmas.
So now I’m completely drenched. There’s not a part of my body that hasn’t got perspiration pouring out of it like a waterfall. The train is very crowded. I go looking for a victim to sit next to. In the final front car I see a woman sitting comfortably by herself. That’s going to end shortly. To her horror, I say, “Excuse me.” and sit down next to her. Out of my knapsack, I pull my old gym sock that holds my ice pack, put it on my neck and settle in for the ride home.
I made the appointment… and still question if it’s really helping. Enjoy the weekend!
