Ooooooh man. Oh man. I’m not a reporter anymore. So, until the day that I again get paid to write stuff, I will utilize this blogospace to stay sharp. Like a knife. Like a sword made of knives that eats razorblades and craps more, sharper razorblades.
That sounds pretty painful, actually.
A few weeks ago, I went on vacation. My friend, Evan, and I both found a blank spot in our schedules to go and see our two other friends, Cory and Emily, who live in Rhode Island. And, because we’re the adventurous sort, we opted to do something craaaazy: we bought train tickets.
I know what you’re thinking: “Tony, that’s crazy! Haven’t you seen ‘Unstoppable’? ‘Murder on the Orient Express’? ‘Shanghai Noon’? Trains are hotbeds of robbery and death!”
Well, formless, strangely opinionated void, I’ve only seen two of those movies, but even though my death was more-or-less guaranteed (in any movie, I’m not the hero, I’m the Watson, the Chewbacca, the Fezzik: the lovable guy that makes the story better and provides excellent quotes, but rarely takes part in the final showdown, or even survives that long), that’s not enough to stop me from trying something new!
Until acts of God happen.
Two hours prior to our embarking, a frikkin’ TORNADO happens in Indiana, tearing up train track and keeping our train from getting to us. At 2 a.m., me and Evan are scrambling to find alternate means of transportation, and happen upon the Greyhound website. The next bus for Rhode Island leaves in a scant four hours, and there are but 5(!) tickets left. We get our refund from Amtrak, get two bus tickets, get ready to go… and then endure 30 hours of utter unpleasantness.
It wasn’t torture. Don’t get me wrong, there are worse ways to spend 30 hours. The bus had power outlets, intermittent Internet (seriously, that’s awesome), but the bus was crowded, there wasn’t a lot of wiggle room, there was a dude who had a bad case of the poops, and there was a guy behind me who was bound and determined to discuss the finer points of Christianity with a dude who was a natural troll. They argued for hours, neither had a volume control, and no one on the bus could walk away. Bah.
We finally arrived. We had a great time. We left. The occurrences there will be a different, happier blog post.
The trip home was nicer, but that wouldn’t have been hard. We were able to take the train back, as there had been no journey-altering tornadoes. Trains have: more wiggle room, more seating options, nicer bathrooms, the chance to move around, and food cars…
It was still a 30+ hour trip. Driving to RI only takes like 13, and then you have a car with which to move yourself around AND keep your stuff in.
So, here’s the breakdown: at the bottom of the pile of Ways To Get Someplace is, I dunno, by mule, or crawling. Slightly above that is Bus. Higher up the list is Train, then there’s about 50 feet of crap, then there’s Car and Plane, both of which have their perks and disadvantages that put them pretty much equal in my mind.
Crap (50 ft.)
See you later.