By By Rob N. LeDonne
Traveling has been a problem for people since the dawn of time. In the 1800s trains used to be the best way to travel this country, and people loved them! “Gee gawly,” small children would say to their mothers or cows. “Let’s go on a rootin’ tootin’ train ride!”
Fast-forward 140 years later. With cars and airplanes, trains no longer need to go on long treks. Now people ride a train for three reasons: they are too lazy to drive, too poor to fly or have marijuana and ammunition to transport.
On a quiet Friday morning in late September I woke up at 10 a.m. to find my new notebook computer decided to die during the night. I planned to ride the LIRR at 1 p.m. to my cousin’s house further out on the island for a relaxing fun-filled weekend. After an hour on the phone with the minions at Gateway, I decided to take my notebook with me for my relatives to inspect.
I packed the dead computer, slapped together a duffel bag with clothes and was off. By now, I missed the 1 p.m. train; it was almost two hours after I intended to leave. In case you don’t know, the University has something called, “The Blue Beetle,” which transports car-less folks to the train station, on the hour, every hour.
I walked on the blue-painted seventies-era school bus (how cute!) and luckily found a seat. The thing about “The Blue Beetle,” however, is every time the hunk of metal hits the slightest crack in the road it makes sounds rivaling the apocalypse. Once we arrived at the train station I decided to buy my ticket and waited on line for roughly 15 minutes. Don’t forget, this is the first time I traveled alone, off campus, in this strange town, which isn’t the best to walk around un-armed to begin with.
It was finally my turn to buy a ticket, and instead of a teller happily greeting me, there was a machine. “How many passengers?” and “Where would you like to go?” appeared on the screen. I popped in my information. Simple enough so far. The next question, though, stumped the hell out of me, “Where would you like to transfer?” What? I’m confused! Isn’t there an express train from here to further out east? After a five minute staring contest with the computer I decided to abandon it so the 8 people behind me could go about getting their tickets. I made my way over to the ticket counter. I explained I didn’t know where to transfer to and the counterperson informed me that in order to get to my destination, roughly a half hour east, I had to go west to Jamaica-about two hours out of my way.
I wanted to say “Hellz no!” but instead asked if there was any other alternatives. The teller informed me that I could take a 20-minute bus ride to another train station and then get a train to my destination. I went with this choice and walked to the bus station across the street.
Walking in I saw another goddamn ticket machine. “Where are all of the workers?” I wondered. Confused again, I went to a door that said employees and knocked like a lost child. A tall, older gentleman appeared and I told him my predicament. He pointed me towards the bus to take, and I hopped on. I, being “Mr. Naive” from small town America, had never been on a real city bus before, so I had no idea what to expect. The thing stopped at every damn block. If there was a street, or a landmark, or a place where someone could possibly go, it stopped there. There must have been about 40 stops in 45 minutes, a ride that should have taken only 10.
On the bus I asked the nice lady next to me when my stop was. “Que?” she responded. As the bus stopped every second my stomach tied into a knot and eventually, I had to go to the bathroom, which is something that always happens when I get nervous. I had two options: stay on this bus or hop off, find a restroom and take another one. I decided to stay on, only because when I looked out the window there were stores with names like Billy Bob’s Auto Shop… you get the picture. The ride finally ended, I ran off with only seconds to spare and made my train. Thinking of what I had just been through, my dead computer and my upcoming ride, I thought to myself, “I wouldn’t mind being on a train in the good ole days right now.” Goddamn modern technology still hasn’t fixed our transportation problems. n