Instead of laying in gloom and doom (and completely unable to fall back to sleep), I managed to convince myself to get up and make an early start on things. With visions of pre-boarding browsing at Brookstone in my head, I headed for the shower, got ready, grabbed my bags and off to an early train I went. Smugly.
When I jumped on the first train that arrived (not the correct train, mind you, but the first train), I was shocked at how many people were on board. It wasn't even 7 a.m. yet and it was crammed packed. Realizing I boarded the wrong color train (needed rojo but was on azul), I hopped off when appropriate and waited for the right color train to show up - while standing in the rain - and hoping it was one of the new fancy trains and not an old crappy train with stairs I have to negotiate my always-heavy bags onto. Instead, the middle of the road train showed up - not the new schwanky train and not the old crappy train with stairs, but the old, crappy non-step train. At that point, I'd take it.
It always amazes me how other people on the train with suitcases feel compelled to strike up a conversation with other passengers who also have suitcases. You know you're going to the same place (the airport) but everyone is always curious as to where you're off to once you arrive there. Me being one of those nosey people.
So onboard comes "Tex" -- a rather tall, striking man with a presence and his wife - with suitcases. They plop down in the row behind me. I'm not sure his name was Tex, but he looked like a Tex - wranger type jeans, cowboy hat, cowboy boots. He had an ever so slight southern drawl and looked like a less tan version of the Marlboro Man in happier days before he croaked from cancer. His booming voice was a bit unnecessary (and unwelcomed, mind you) at the wee hours of the morning.
He struck up a conversation - consisting of, "Where ya off to?" To which I replied, "Washington DC." Now really I am going to Maryland to visit family, although Maryland sounds so dull, while Washington DC sounds much more sophisticated. I quickly fessed up about Maryland and added it was for a family gathering, as if no one travels to Maryland or if they do, they need a valid excuse. He then went into a (loud) dissertation of how he wants to visit DC someday and see the National Monument, the museums on the mall, the White House and the Pentagon. Didn't have the heart to tell him the Pentagon isn't in DC.
Tex's wife who also had cowboy hat - but of the leopard persuasion and a strong Spanish accent, spoke up, interrupting Tex's dreams of dinner with the Obamas, to inform me they were going to Acapulco via cruise. It was just about that time that Tex's phone rang and I got to hear more than I ever wanted to know about the Tex's upcoming vacation.
In a most obnoxious booming voice Tex announces, "Yeah! Acapulco!" To the poor deaf person on the other end of the phone. Then a second of silence, followed by,
"I think we get back on the 30th, Phil!" The 30TH!!!! I'll call you when we land in Portland that day!! Did I tell you it takes two days by boat from San Diego to get there?!" Poor Phil. Another second of silence (he was probably trying to regain his hearing) and then, "Yep! I hope we don't have any delays in San Diego considering our boat leaves four hours after we touch ground!!" This was followed by boisterous laughter and then finally, "See you next week!!" and that was that. It was so loud I'm surprised the train didn't derail at some point during the conversation. That was when I decided....
... Hello iPod.
The rest of the ride was spent in blissful shuffle mode, where over the likes of Roxy Music I could hear Tex chatting up other unsuspecting luggage carriers who happened to board the train and sit close to the fellow airport goers. Only I could hear bits and pieces of the conversations, as much as I tried to tune it out. Mostly it was Tex's booming pipes that carried well beyond any note that Bryan Ferry could attempt to cover up. Mostly I heard words like "Acapulco!" and "Boat!" shouted twelve decibels louder than necessary.
As we approached the airport (I could see the tower and my escape rather clearly), I put away the iPod and prepared myself to get into pole position to zip out the door as soon as I was released. The last two minutes of the train ride were spent listening to Tex tell his story of how his boss rammed into him with a forklift and as a result, he'd been out of work for six months. "Got me good, he did!!!!!, " I heard him exclaim. I had to stop to wonder if the boss did it on purpose. About that time, the doors opened and I was freed from the auditory assault on my eardrums.
And the rest can continue tomorrow.........
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment