My baby takes the morning train. Don't know about yours, but this baby just missed her train--by 7 minutes.
So I'm sitting in the railway station, sipping a latte, waiting for the next train--which will depart in 145 minutes. I reached the station at 5:45, the train departed at 5:33. 12 measly minutes.
I'm formulating the story problems in my head:
If my flight landed at 4:30, and it took me forever to get through the viper of an immigration line, and even longer in the customs line only to arrive at the Airtrain Station just as one was pulling out, what should I have done in order to shave 12 or 15 minutes off my time?
- Jumped the queue?
- Sprinted up the escalator?
- Not used the washroom?
- None of the Above
- All of the Above
There's a food court of sorts at Jamaica Station. It consists of 3 shops--one being the "Air Bar" (Opens at 11)--and a section with tables and chairs. I have jingle in my pockets, my IPad in my bag and the timer set on my phone. I'm one of the lucky ones. All around me, people surrounded by bags sleep with their heads on the "Customer Only" tables. Judging by the look of them--mouths open, slumped, if they were customers, it was hours ago. I wonder which train they're waiting for...or if they know? Or care? Or are?
While I sip my latte, I'm thinking of the hours this delay is costing me. If only I'd checked the train times sooner—last night in the departure lounge. If only I'd know the train left at 5:33...
Would knowing have made a difference?
Would I have been able to catch that earlier train? Who knows . . .
I do know is what I would have been doing if I had known the train’s departure time:
Instead of stretching my legs, clicking through messages, and wondering about all the other people waiting with me in those lines, my insides would have been buzzing like a hot switchboard, I would have been feeling like the lady a few bends of the queue back who bellowed out, "Hey Number 15! 17! 22! Get to Work! You are on the clock! Stopping chatting and take care of business!”
In my case, ignorance was bliss and no busted brain vessels.
In the meantime I'll sip my latte, and be grateful the NY Deli only had everything bagels--with rye seeds--so I am not tempted to order one (with extra cream cheese) and do another story question:
If I were two people and one of me had managed to leap immigration & customs lines, my suitcase had rolled down the baggage carousel sooner than later, I hadn’t stopped to use the washroom, I had caught that earlier Airtrain in time to make the 5:33 train, that one would be seated at my computer sipping coffee and clicking on my computer, what would the other of me be doing?
The other of me that didn’t catch the 5:33 morning is sitting in the station, sipping a latte and clicking on my IPAD while waiting for the 8:03 train to Ronkonkoma. Coffee vs. Latte, Computer vs. IPAD, Coffee-Latte, Computer-IPAD...
When Stars and/or Trains Align Playlist:
- My Baby Takes the Morning Train by Sheena Easton
- Homeward Bound by Simon & Garfunkle
- Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is? by Chicago