Train Journey
Train 664 leaves Thirtieth Street Station bound for New York City at 10:55. Concurrently, Train 663 leaves the station, headed for Harrisburg.
Both trains are, confusingly, called The Keystone.
If Mark and I have tickets for Train 664 because we plan to celebrate his 58th birthday with a day of Manhattan museum-going, but somehow end up on Train 663 instead, how many miles do we travel in the wrong direction before we realize that we've made a terrible mistake?
Or, to put it another way, how fast does my pulse begin to race and how high does Mark's blood pressure spike when, as the train picks up speed and we settle into our seats, anticipating a glorious day in the Big Apple, the conductor comes on over the loudspeaker to welcome us aboard the train to Harrisburg?
Bonus question: How loud do I scream upon hearing this announcement? (Keep in mind that we're in the quiet car.)
Train 664, the Keystone, heads in one direction. Train 663, also The Keystone, heads in the opposite direction.
What could possibly go wrong?
When we first arrived at the station, we'd checked the Information Board to see what platform Train 664 would leave from. It said Platform 7. Of course, Mark, wasn't wearing his glasses. And I've got cataracts. So who knows what it really said? It could have told us that Train 664 was the Hogwarts Express, now boarding from Platform 9 ¾. Or that Train 664 was the Peace Train and Cat Stevens would be our conductor.
The world can be an uncertain place when viewed with middle-aged eyes.
At Platform 7, we asked the Amtrak employee checking tickets, "This is Train 664, right?" Nodding, he glanced at our tickets, then ushered us onto the wrong train.
If your entire job consists of making sure nobody boards a train who doesn't belong on that train, and you let a couple with tickets for one train get on another one instead, can we safely assume that you are:
1) an underachiever
2) suffering from sudden onset dyslexia
3) just
Both trains are, confusingly, called The Keystone.
If Mark and I have tickets for Train 664 because we plan to celebrate his 58th birthday with a day of Manhattan museum-going, but somehow end up on Train 663 instead, how many miles do we travel in the wrong direction before we realize that we've made a terrible mistake?
Or, to put it another way, how fast does my pulse begin to race and how high does Mark's blood pressure spike when, as the train picks up speed and we settle into our seats, anticipating a glorious day in the Big Apple, the conductor comes on over the loudspeaker to welcome us aboard the train to Harrisburg?
Bonus question: How loud do I scream upon hearing this announcement? (Keep in mind that we're in the quiet car.)
Train 664, the Keystone, heads in one direction. Train 663, also The Keystone, heads in the opposite direction.
What could possibly go wrong?
When we first arrived at the station, we'd checked the Information Board to see what platform Train 664 would leave from. It said Platform 7. Of course, Mark, wasn't wearing his glasses. And I've got cataracts. So who knows what it really said? It could have told us that Train 664 was the Hogwarts Express, now boarding from Platform 9 ¾. Or that Train 664 was the Peace Train and Cat Stevens would be our conductor.
The world can be an uncertain place when viewed with middle-aged eyes.
At Platform 7, we asked the Amtrak employee checking tickets, "This is Train 664, right?" Nodding, he glanced at our tickets, then ushered us onto the wrong train.
If your entire job consists of making sure nobody boards a train who doesn't belong on that train, and you let a couple with tickets for one train get on another one instead, can we safely assume that you are:
1) an underachiever
2) suffering from sudden onset dyslexia
3) just