Negril Notes

NJ Transit - Or Lack Thereof…

February 16, 2006

I like trains. I take them often. They give me the time and the solitude to read and/or write. So, on Monday I figured the train would be a superior choice over negotiating traffic after the Great Nor’easter of 2006.

After a full days work I walked the half mile to the Hoboken Train Station, I usually ride the subway-esque path train from small Hoboken Station to big Newark Station for points south, Trenton, Philly, home.

This Monday genius boy decided to try the cushy, well heated NJ Transit train out of Hoboken at 6:01, change at Secaucus Transfer Station and pick up the 6:21 Northeast Corridor to Trenton with a connection to Philly.

NJ Transit said they had computer problems and due to the twenty inches of snow, they had to re-route trains all over the state, I think there was a conspiracy to trick a small group of weary travelers.

A big red sign lit up at Track B in the Secaucus Transfer Station, each train line has a corresponding color, the Trenton line is red. The sign read “Northeast Corridor 6:21PM Track B.” An announcer parrots these words and in a few seconds a huge friggin’ train pulls in with the word “TRENTON” festooned all over it in big bright lime colored LED letters.

So, being trusting, I stepped aboard, the doors closed and the computer generated car announcement said “Train to Trenton, next stop Newark Penn Station.” I sat back in the comfortable maroon faux leather seat, and felt good about my decision to go this route. I had a window seat just one stop ahead of the hoards that come aboard at Newark making it a standing room only trip.

“What was that?!?” my brain screamed!

He repeated, “THIS IS THE SUMMIT EXPRESS, PLEASE DISREGARD THE CAR ANNOUNCEMENT, I REPEAT, THIS IS THE SUMMIT EXPRESS, THIS TRAIN IS GOING TO SUMMIT.”

I freaked! I felt like a trapped animal! I scurried to and fro scratching on the windows as the station disappeard into the night, trying to get my mind around what just happened.

Standing in the aisle, I could see through several cars to an older conductor speaking to a petite Asian woman with flailing arms, and a really exasperated looking Indian guy. As I approached the situation I realized the kindly older conductor was a burned out government employed jack-ass with the empathy and slack-jawed cluelessness of a newt (please feel free to substitute the slimy invertebrate of your choice).

After she was done and got no satisfaction, I chimed in, but soon realized I was wasting my time talking to a brick wall. I don’t mean to disparage brick walls, at least they stand firm while you talk to them, he just held up his employee ID.

I didn’t get mad, ballistic asshole man did not make an appearance. A fellow traveler told me the head conductor is up front and that I should go talk to the boss. So I walked through half a dozen cars and found the boss.

I told him our situation, somehow becoming the spokesman for our little group. I guess union seniority trumps middle management, since he never addressed the dolt six cars back, but he did raise some hell and called a few people and seemed like he was on our side. It was kind of like the McDonald’s manager that seems personally angry that your Filet-O-Fish came to you sans tartar sauce.

The long and short of it was we had to get off at Summit, walk over to the middle track and take the very next train to New York, get off at Secaucus Transfer Station and try again to get to Trenton. The instructions came along with a most sincere apology.

There were about ten affected travelers on the middle platform in Summit when the very next train arrived, and like lemmings we boarded.

In less than three minutes aboard the train to make right the evenings wrongs, I saw an attractive woman in a red coat sitting across the aisle with a most flabbergasted look on her face. She was speaking to a conductor, “What do you mean this train isn’t stopping at Secaucus!!” she said in calm, shocked disbelief.

And with that same, I live at the teat of the New Jersey taxpayer attitude, deadpan but appreciably less smarmy delivery, “Nope, but you can get off at Newark Broad Street, then catch a bus or taxi to Newark Penn Station, or you can go back to New York.”

I spoke up, but she just listened and replied in the exact same words, though at least her implied “F**k You” gave her just a tinge of personality.

The Lady in the red coat and I went back and forth a few times trying to figure a way just to get on any train headed south.

“It would be funny if it wasn’t happening to me,” she joked.

We decided to split a cab and get to Newark Penn Station as soon as we could, but as we got off the train and to the street, the bus was just pulling up. The only good timing NJ Transit showed all night!

I was actually getting excited, I had a good chance of getting the 7:30 train to Trenton, then the 8:40 to Philly and maybe be home by ten.

I dashed off the bus and all but ran through the station, leaving my new friends behind. I arrived on Track 4 at 7:33, looked up to the board and saw the 7:30 Trenton was running five minutes late, woo hoo! finally a break!

Looking around the crowded platform, I realized my train had several trains ahead of it. I stood there out of breath and confused trying to digest what was going on.

Then came the garbled announcement, ” The 7:28 Long Branch Local will be arriving on Track 4 in ten to fifteen minutes, the 7:30 Trenton will be five minutes behind that, Long Branch first, Trenton Second on Track 4.”

It didn’t take too long to figure the math, I’d miss the connection at Trenton and wouldn’t be home till almost midnight.

I gave in and laughed aloud. Its funny the looks one gets when one bursts into laughter in a public place full of dreary commuters.

I looked up to see the petite Asian girl, the Indian guy, the Lady in the red coat and a few others from the misdirected Summit crew, we’d kind of bonded. They were the only others laughing.

Peace

Vinny
AKA-Disgruntled Traveler

Filed under: Current, Writing