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Sunday, August 31, 2008

Brianna's Fabulous Birthday Trip To NYC Part One: The Train Ride

Ok, so this isn't actually part one. Our trip actually started at five in the morning when my dad and I got in the car with our snacks and started the four hour ride to New Jersey but I am going to skip over that part though for two reasons. First, there aren't any sweet pictures and second, there isn't a whole lot that would sound interesting in print.

So moving on to "The Train Ride" (dun dun dun)
We made it to New Jersey and Doug (my dad's first cousin's husband) took us to the train stop and dropped us off. That was it. He just left us so we just stood there. There wasn't much to see except the track and some other people waiting to catch the train. So naturally, I tried to look as casual as possible. I have only been on a train once before in my life and this was a little different so I tried to blend in. I noticed all the people waiting for the train and tried to recreate their "Waiting for the train" look. I don't think it went very well. I was too excited. I couldn't hold it. After a couple minutes I decided to take pictures instead. Hence the lovely pictures you now behold.

The third picture is the one I took right as the train was pulling up. It chugged across the track and then slowly came to a stop. Out popped the quintessential train conductor. My dad said he reminded him of Tom Hanks in that movie the Polar Express. He was ever inch his job. So he jumps out of the train and in this deep very slow conductor like voice calls out, "NEW YORK". He drags out the word so long and so deep I almost burst out laughing right there. It was so perfect.

We hopped on board and found a seat. The conductor starts coming up the aisle taking money and giving tickets. He has a look of complete boredom and distance but you can tell he is paying close attention to everything. He gets to us. My dad hands him the money and he pulls out a ticket. Punch, punch, punch goes the conductor. Little bits of yellow paper fly everywhere and he hands us out ticket. I knew right then that if I ever had ever harbored any notion in the farthest corner of my wildest dreams of the possibility of becoming a train conductor I had to give it up. After he left we held the ticket, my dad and I, and looked at it in complete mystification. What did it mean???? There were punch marks all over the little yellow slip but none of them made any sense. For all I knew he could have just punched our ticket for Timbuktu. We looked at them, trying to find a pattern. We found none. We eventually found the date but beyond that it was just guesses. I decided that I will never, absolutely never be able to punch a ticket that fast and have it make any sense. My illustrious career as a train conductor was over, and my trip to New York was just beginning.

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