The Former Traveling Spotlight

The tales of a "30" something gay former stand-up comic living in NYC who is searching for his soul mate or soul...which ever comes first.

Friday, January 25, 2008

Strangers on a Train

In my never ending quest to find a husband, and due to the fact that I feel like I’ve already met a majority of the single men in New York City, I realized that it may be time to shake things up and try something different. Sex may be easy to find in the concrete jungle (if you’re gay and aren’t getting any…call me…I can help), but finding romance and love, well it just isn’t pretty. It’s a man eat man world, and I’m hungry! I decided new scenery and city was what I needed…although my bank account didn’t agree. So rather than taking a plane to the Midwest, I took a train. Seriously…what’s more romantic than a cross country train ride?

Ok…I’m totally bullshitting here. I had stored some personal belongings at a friends place in Cleveland before moving to New York, and since they had sold their home, I needed to go to the “Mistake on the Lake” to get my things. At nearly a $400 plane ticket, plus U-Haul prices, the only affordable option was a bus or train, and since the idea of a train trip across country still sounded romantic, I went for it. Club cars, cocktails on the moving rails, booty calls in the bathroom…I’m all for it.

I booked my trip one week before I was supposed to leave, using the Amtrak website. Fairly easy, I had two options for my one way trip. At a cost of $52, I could travel to Washington DC, wait 5 hours and then leave DC and arrive at Cleveland Ohio at 2:30 in the morning. Otherwise I could pay $81 and travel on a train direct from Penn Station in NYC to Cleveland, landing there at a very late (or early…depending on how you look at it) 3:30 am. A-M…as in Ass Mine…Bite it! I debated once again flying, but while looking at my bank balance I purchased my ticket…all the while concentrating on that “club car” romance I would be having. Somewhere out there…was that stranger on a train.

I arrived at Penn station to the usual chaos that it is. Between the school kids hanging out by the donut place, the regular LIRR and NJ Transit commuters, I battled my way to stand before a very large board that tells you which gate you will need to be at for the boarding of the train. Except Amtrak never tells you which gate until 10 minutes before boarding, thus a mass of people stare at this board, looking all Orwell’s 1984, waiting to see where they go. My train, #49, the Lakeshore Limited, was announced to be boarding at Gate 8 West.

Now brace yourselves…the train left ON TIME!!! I was actually shocked! When taking that train to Boston, it’s always been late. As we quickly traveled North through Manhattan and along the Hudson River, I was able to watch the sun setting in the West. Amtrak would like you to know that on this particular trip, you will be able to see the lovely Finger Lakes area of upstate New York, before traveling along the scenic coast of Lake Erie. What Amtrak will not tell you is that it will be night time, pitch dark outside, and the only thing you will see for the next twelve hours is your reflection in the glass window! I may modestly handsome…but even I can get tired of looking at my own face.

It was time to find my next true love in the club car. I pictured him sitting in a leather seat, drinking a drink, nicely dressed and ready to engage me in wonderful conversation. Perhaps jazz music would be playing as he’d ask me to join him for dinner at his table…which of course I would accept. I opened the door to the dining car expecting to see a somewhat upscale restaurant and was greeted with something that resembled a moving McDonald’s! Plastic table clothes covered the tables and florescent lighting glared down at you. Has Amtrak ever heard of a dimmer switch? I was placed at a table with four other complete strangers, and given a very small menu to look over.

The menu is basic with a choice of deep fried wings, cheese, fries, and onion rings vs. microwave heated burgers and salmon! Yes…salmon. If I can pass any wisdom from my experience to you it would be this. DON’T EAT THE SALMON! I’ve tasted leather boots that had more flavor and were ironically more tender.

My table consisting of three strangers and myself gave our drink orders. Diet coke, diet coke, herbal tea, and a martini. One look at my other reviews will tell you what I was having. I’m not saying I’m an alcoholic…but for a 12 hour train ride, something had to get me through this, and the three people at my table were not helping.

Back at my seat, I sat down to hear the woman in the next aisle discussing with her seatmate about how she had found Jesus in the last year. I honestly didn’t know he was lost. Doesn’t he just hang out in Catholic churches? I could sense her impending proselytizing, and decided it was best to insure that the seat next to me remained empty.

Men: If you want to keep the seat next to you empty on any public transportation, I have one word for you. Porn. It’s sold in nearly every airport and train station bookstore, and all you need to do is flip through that baby and you are going to be left alone! In my case, I wanted extra insurance, so I put a porn DVD in my laptop and popped the headphones in the ears while watching. I stretched my legs onto the seat next to me, as my fellow passengers stared at me with horrified faces.

Around 2:20 in the morning, the train conductor announced that we had to make an emergency stop because of a sick passenger. The train stopped, and 3 paramedics bolted to the back of the car, where the frail old lady had been sitting. She wasn’t sitting anymore. She was sort of slumped over, and after working about 10 minutes on the poor woman, they put her on a stretcher and wheeled her off the train…with her face covered. The woman died on the train, and sadly the only thing I could think was “My god…I guess she had the salmon.”

Next time…I’m taking the plane.

Patrick - 12:15 PM -

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