(Taken from Amtrak Train Window)
Over a year ago, I rode Amtrak from DC to Florence, SC, my hometown, and I can't get all the strange events out of my head. I'm an eavesdropper, and I'm a bad eavesdropper. I'm the kind that doesn't just inch in to listen, but also stares, and, if some crazy shit is said, I might jot it down in one of my little notepads just so I don't forget some of the details. I'm lucky I haven't had my ass beat. Seems to me though that most people lack self-awareness, and the ones who lack self-awareness are usually the best ones to listen to. They never know I'm there, so an ass beating doesn't have to be too big of a concern.
This train ride was like Shangrilah for an eavesdropper.
I settle into my seat, and I'm thinking wonder who I'll have to sit beside. I'm already wanting it to be a quiet person, because my arrival time is something like 3 AM, and I want sleep. I'm hoping for an old lady who knits and later pulls an afghan over herself to nap. What I get is a lady wearing a Disney tee shirt with a Grumpy and a Dopey on it that reads "I'm grumpy, because you're dopey." You can imagine my upset, but I quickly learned that I couldn't have gotten a better seatmate. I came out the gate all blustery and possessive over my stuff and personal space as to make myself unlikeable. I got the armrest and engaged in more bitchery and stuff. I was in no mood to be near a talker, and I knew she was one. You can just tell, you know.
Grumpy shirt wasted no time chatting it up a with a lady across the aisle. She asked her where she was headed and aisle lady told her she was going to visit her Mom. Grumpy said she wished she was going to visit her mom, but her mom passed away not too long ago. Then, she goes on and on, and I'm getting saucer size eyes the more she talks thinking am I really hearing this. She said that when her mom died they decided to cremate her remains, and the family passes around the remains from house to house, so they can visit with Mama. Then, she says Mama's favorite place is on top of the TV, because her favorite thing to do is watch TV. She also shared that her grandkids like to put Mama on top of the TV, so Mama can hear since Mama always asked them to turn up the volume.
About that time, I'm getting thirsty, so I go to the snack car, but not until I pack up all my shit to carry with me. If you've ever ridden the train, then you know you're likely to get jacked and cut or robbed. If you don't believe that shady people are on the train, ride it and find out for yourself, but don't ride it without mace.
I get to the snack car and get a Snickers and Diet Coke. The snack bar is a shitty tin can nothing like what you see in those movies from the 40s and 50s. I sit down at a table, and there's this woman who looks like she's on crack. She's wearing a belly shirt and skinny jeans; is probably bumping 40 something; has long, stringy jet black hair; blurred tattoos; is skeletor skinny and wobbling like a weeble, but that weeble was going to fall down. Miss Cracky shouts send two beers to those two guys to her daugher. The guys are twenty something and fresh, so they take the beers when Miss Cracky's tween daughter with pink hair walks over to them to serve them the beers. Next thing you know the four are nestled in a booth, and the cutesy family nearby, who is probably riding the train because their little boy loves that Thomas the Tank train engine, snuggles in real close and makes a quick exit. I leave, because, at that point, I'm just sad about Miss Cracky's daughter and I'm thinking about how life is a lottery. I'm wanting Grumpy tee shirt to cheer me up, and when I get back to my seat she's there all right sharing more personal dish, and I'm ready with open ears. I was not disappointed.
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