Melodrama would be the absolute easy route when it comes to telling this story so I’ll try my best to spare you the unnecessary and ridiculous embellishments where possible. The quick version of this story is that commuting absolutely sucks. The longer version goes a little something like this.
Life’s supposed to be a little bit easy when you move back to your hometown. For my purposes, it was to emotionally and financially regroup before turning 25 and having to take life seriously. The one downfall to this side-step in life was that my commute drastically changed from a roughly 20-minute deal to one that took approximately an hour or so.
There’s a big tradeoff here you see, because, those extra 40 minutes of your life really don’t mean that much when it’s spent sitting in a guaranteed seat that you’re actually capable of sleeping in. It also turns out to be a great time to get some quality reading done as well, heck, maybe even some decent pondering if you feel so inclined. Those tend to be the ways I utilize the 2+ hours of my day on the tracks.
My life as a Connecticut commuter has had its fair share of nonsense. It’s generally hard to complain but my only major qualm is when there’s no sitting room and I’m unequivocally exhausted, in which case it’s an utter pain in the ass. The only big issues arise during times of unreasonable bitch slaps from Mother Nature (see: Hurricane Sandy, and/or any slight trickle of snow). It’s situations like these that the trains become horrifically crowded or sometimes cease to run due to the track’s reaction to the inclement in weather.
The morning of September 25th was one to remember in that it kicked off what would be about a week of commutation tomfoolery. A Good Samaritan in the Metro North parking lot informed me that trains weren’t running before I paid the $5.00 for the right to park my car for a day. I swiftly made my way home to get the day started since I’d be working from the home office. Unfortunately, the vast majority of the documents I needed were sitting on a laptop in Lower Manhattan meaning that I’d need to make the journey the following day into the city.
I made my way to the train the next morning with a positive outlook despite having nothing but frightening memories of cramped commutes to the city during times of bad weather. Needless to say I was pleasantly surprised to find that the entire train car was empty! Utter jubilation permeated through my veins. Not only was I flying to work during a time of what should have been an utter cluster-fuck, but I was getting there without having to fight for elbow room. SCORE.
The unadulterated joy was quickly destroyed after it was announced on the PA system that the train would be stopping in Rye (aka 2-stops from mine) where MTA employees would direct us to a bus that would help bring us to our next destination. For us folk heading towards the Big Apple, that meant taking a bus up to White Plains and then hitting the Harlem line to Grand Central.
All in all, what was the biggest pain in my ass ended up not being all too bad because the Metro North staff on hand were incredibly patient (especially since they were being asked the same questions over and over and over again). It took an extra 45 minutes to get to work which in and of itself was a son of a bitch but at least the people that helped us all get there did it with a smile on their faces. It certainly helped.