Before first light the dining car attendant will wake you with something slightly malevolent around the edges of his otherwise cheerful voice: if he has to be up, so do you. A list of breakfast options has never sounded so threatening. You will notice you have your rail legs under you as you manage to perform all of your morning ablutions with a minimum of bruising in a space smaller than a phone booth. Now is a good time to come to good-humored terms with the fact that in each of the three possible restrooms you share in a sleeping car inhabited almost exclusively by men, the toilet seats will be up every. single. time. You will discover that you didnt pack your other pants in the carry on, so the purple pants must be paired with the green shirt and you console yourself that if in addition to the rest of your loud and half-clean ensemble you keep on the striped socks you wore to bed, you may be mistaken for a super villain. The scores of hippies on their way to march in New York will have already populated the tables in the lounge, bolt upright, so many self righteous spines strengthened by their yoga discipline of choice and non-animal, non-GMO protein sources, eyes closed in meditation for our greater good while the landscape they are pledged to save whips by the windows unseen. At the far end of the car you will seat yourself in the swivel chair next to the kind man and his bible traveling to Denver to see his father in hospice. You will be relieved it is the kind man and not the randy British marathoner, who will appear shortly after to share your swivel seat scaring the kind man off: Well, Im running 10Ks now love, now I had my knee surgery (Ive always been stocky but I try to keep fit). I have a lovely young woman in my family car. No nothing like that, all above board, no hanky panky. They gave me a family room, $1400 dollars one way could you conscience it? Well I met Tia (beautiful girl, lovely complexion) at the Sacramento station and shes traveling with these flat-earthers is what I call em, these Climate Train cultists, and rather than have her sleep upright in a chair in a cold coach car, I thought, I have plenty of room why not, hey? *cough* Sorry Ive got this cold but if Tia doesnt have a veritable Pandoras box of pills and she gave me something last night, two capsules what fixed me right as rain this morning just. Anyway, Im much better. *hack* She is my guardian angel, a guardian angel truly. Have to remember I could be her grandfather, right enough. Same with Jennifer, who will be picking yours truly up at the station in Alabama. I told you about Jennifer didnt I? (beautiful girl, lovely complexion) Met her on a layover in Germany on her way to London. Here let me see if I cant find a picture of Jennifer. See there? That figure? Gorgeous. Kissable, if I might say. Id rather say that than the other thing, if you catch my meaning though we, meaning men, were thinking it, arent we? I mean, were only human. And a figure like that, well Im just saying women were built for having babies werent they and we cant help being attracted? Nature. But Jennifer I met her she was so sad and I wouldnt presume to know but a young woman, single in her thirties, on her own, thats got to be hard, eh? Anyway she reminded me of dances in the 50s, you know. We would be all dressed up, dapper we might have called it. And the girls, with the hair just so, and a nice blouse and skirts down to the knee and pet-ti-coats and dare I say it, stockings with the garters because they didnt have the other kind yet. And we danced you know, actually danced, which was enough to smell their perfume and feel their softness and youd take em home right by the time youd agreed on with their fathers and maybe youd hold hands on the way and then maybe, maybe youd get a peck on the cheek in the front garden and wouldnt it just give wings to your heels then? Just that was enough. Of course your mind would be going a million miles a minute with other scenarios but thats natural isnt? But it was proper. And Jennifer she was clear there was nothing going on (I could be her grandfather, couldnt I just?) but didnt she reach up and give me a peck on the cheek when I saw her off at Euston Station? It was proper. Not like most kids today, with your Bookfaces and your Peas with Black Eyes and your Lady TaTas. Yes, Glenn Miller and a peck on the cheek, it was something.
Posted on: Tue, 16 Sep 2014 17:04:53 +0000
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