dwink i owned a company and all i got was this stupid blog

The Three-Hour Tour

Friday night I got out of work a little later than I had planned, which was accompanied by some gnashing of teeth on the home front. I got off the phone after apologizing and barrelled into the train station, determined to make the 6:10 train.

Things started out fine; I was doing a little work on my laptop, trying to close any last minute issues so I could play all weekend. Then, the emergency brakes kicked in, and the train lurched to a halt.

I looked up from my lappy and took a glance around. Commuters, some people who had been playing in the city that day, the usual. Out the window: a cell phone sitting in the tracks, a ten-dollar bill flapping in the wind, and an unmoving body, splayed out on the ground next to my train car.

A few scenarios popped into my mind: he had pushed some old lady out from the train, sacrificing himself for her life; his fortune had gone from him in the subprime debacle and he had leapt in front of the train; then, the saddest and most likely one, that he had been gabbing on his cell phone and ignored the oncoming train for too long. We probably won't ever know; 30 tons of train vs. 200 lbs. of person is a decidedly unfair contest.

The rest of the story is all cleanup; Metra trying to get everyone home, the authorities trying to do their best to determine what happened, the engineer being spooked and requesting to be relieved of duty, the commuters all calling around looking for rides home.

I finally walked in the door about 9:15pm, just over three hours after starting my commute.