Dearest Tooters: Today #amtrak and I separated, ok me and a whole trainload of megalopolis minions. An electrical substation exploded, and a nearby warehouse inexplicably caught fire in the Bronx too close to the tracks. So they stopped the northeast regional at Old Saybrook and said a brushfire has gnawed through trainwires like a giant fiery rat and amtrak wants you off the train. Go now, get on that lesser commuter train and good luck. So we did.

Then I got emails from my train. Emails about the train traveling joyfully through New Haven like nothing was wrong. Here are all our stops. Love and Kisses, 137. Numbers as petnames--it's a train thing. Wait, so we didn't break up? I could have stayed with dear 137? I was perplexed.

At this point, I had already moved on to a commuter train, something to carry me to a real mode of transportation later down the line. There I helped several less firm people, I mean infirm. And we eventually got to New Haven.

And we did the whole yanking and carrying luggage in upward directions thing again in a massive group, that I'm sure lemmings did before they evolved into creatures without luggage. I mean if you going to fling yourself off a great height, evolution must have said, oh veh, stop with the luggage already. But this raised platform had a train and so we flung ourselves into a Metroline North coach instead. We left a bunch of people behind, not sure why. Jump I thought, dont be left behind! Two hours later we arrived to the city of New York.

New York has several stations and we arrived at the one without any knowledge of amtrak tickets, reservations, or trains. Redhats are scarce of course and elevators are practically hidden. But a kind man in a hardhat gave us a careful rundown of the best way to get to Penn Station in three acts as only a true New Yorker can convey. My british accented elder was having none of it, 'Elevator! We asked where is the elevator!°

But I knew that in the bowels of any New York station we had what we needed to get to the shuttle to Penn Station. Unfortunately, the last shuttle had just left, we found out minutes later after a left, a hill. another left and a right.. Surely there were no hard feelings with 137.But now I was worried, this breakup was not really over. There would be regret, and wishful thinking and more tugging luggage uphill.

We got to the line of sleek yellow cabs, and I waved goodbye to me elderly friends and I walked to Penn Station. Phew. Maybe should have taken a cab. But I needed the air and the walk.

it's now many hours later, actually the next day, after nearly an hour with a ticketing counter person. I have a facsimile of a ticket which is a morass of teletype info that describes what would be on a ticket. but really isn't a ticket, and a note in thick red sharpie that the printer wasn't working and please, take pity, let this person on the train. Truly I have hit bottom, and I'm sorry amtrak 137, was it something I said?