I am writing this from my phone from a train at the Route 128 stop
outside of Boston. We have been stuck here for more than an hour. I am
supposed to be feeling lucky that I didn't fly to Philadelphia as
maybe then I would be stuck at the airport. I am out of reading
materials. The guy in front of me has these strange pimples on the
back of his head that I have studied in way too much detail. I want to
be home.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
4 comments:
I feel your pain, Jeremy. I took the Coast Starlight to Oakland last Friday and we were delayed three hours because every dang signal light on the Southern Pacific rails was out, so the train had to stop and visually inspect every signal.
Happily, I ended up hanging out in the club car and talking with a commercial fisherman from Alaska, who had all kinds of neat stories about white squalls, waterspouts, and the like, and he was also buying the drinks, which is reason #245 why - even with a three hour delay - train travel is by far the most civilized form of travel on the planet.
Brady: See, you are good at that sort of thing. Me, I'm too pathologically shy to talk to strangers.
But you're not shy.
Re the guy's head: connected the dots to make strange new constellations?
Did you write a song?
Post a Comment