Apologies for the lapse in posts. I had planned on a glorious post-Thanksgiving recap about sleeping twelve hours each night, hanging with the fam, drinking limitless supplies of Arizona Green Tea, and indulging in an endless supply of music, tv shows, and movies.
I had a blast... until I took a spill on Monday morning on the Amtrak train. I popped up like it was nothing. "Are you okay???" the guy behind me asked. "Yeah, yeah... I'm fine. I'm fine." When I finally found a seat on the packed train to DC, I knew I probably wouldn't be able to stand up in four hours. So I confessed my embarrassing fall to the ticket taker. "I fell down and hurt my leg." I asked for some ice or a first aid kit. He kindly told me to walk my ass to the cafe car.
Amtrak customer service continued to degrade from there. The ticket taker found me in the cafe car again and told me that an 80-year-old woman had fallen between the platform and the train. She didn't cry though. Thanks, asshole. Later when I got up to get some fresh ice, a different Amtrak employee looked at my shoes (my Vans...) and said, "No wonder why you fell. Those shoes don't look like they have much grip." Fuck you too, pal.
There were, however, two nice people on the train. I sat across a Pace University professor who was so kind to me that I mistook her for a Kindergarten teacher. She gave me her magazines to read when she got off the train and talked to me while I sat across from her. Sigh. Then there was one Amtrak lady who got my bags and moved them to where I was sitting with my leg propped up.