Fantastique wrote:
The excuse of distance has no merit anymore since Aestu made it down.
AS DISTANCES VANISH
I left the hotel today at 0920 to catch the train to DC at 1140. The hotel was about five miles from the station, I walked. I stopped at a Latino cafe manned by this very sweet 15-year-old Latino girl. Had an omelette and quesadilas with christians and moors. I overheard her arguing with a family friend about Mesoamerican civilizations - she thought the Aztecs were further south than the Inca or Maya, which she thought were indigenous to Mexico. I informed her that the Aztec were indingeous to Technoctilan, present-day Mexico City, and the others were further south. As I left, the family friend/relative was warm in his thanks.
The train didn't arrive. Upon closer examination it seemed I had accidentally booked my return for the 26th. I was unable to rebook online using my phone so I called Amtrak. They needed the last four digits of my credit card, which I didn't have because I had taken an offer to bill to an Amtrak Mastercard and have the card mailed to me later. So I was transferred to Chase, who after a long dialogue with two Indians, supplied the info. I called Amtrak back. This time a different rep asked not for the last four digits but for the CVV2. I patiently explained the situation for the third time, and she talked to her manager and just got it done. Apparently, the reason the number was neccesary was that the price was higher, but the manager simply waived the difference, vacillating the need for authentication. I thanked her.
It began to rain hard. I was wearing long sleeves and cargos, and all my clothes dry quickly; my Jewish hair also provides excellent protection. If I were in a Tshirt with short hair I'd have been miserable.
This train leaves at 1410, so I wandered around looking for a restaurant to crash at. The only place I found was this Chinese restaurant I now sit at. The front of the restaurant faces away from the road because, it seems, they strive for an exclusively Chinese clientele. I asked for a power socket to recharge my phone, laptop and implants. The socket fits very loosely on the plug; clearly shoddy construction. I bet the entire place isn't even on the books and has never been inspected. Overhearing conversations reveals bits of stereotypical Chinese-American banter, about some girl hanging out with her Jewish BFs friends who don't like her because she's not Jewish, and some little Chinese girl reciting a poem about being loyal to the family. I ordered only pickled cucumbers and something that is supposed to be a rice based dessert but tastes like (and might be) tripe. Didn't touch it, I'm just crashing. The waiter just asked "Didn't touch it? Don't like it?" in a cutsey voice. Not sure if sarcastic.
Due to trouble on the track, the schedule has been pushed back, and I will not be back in Boston until 0150 Monday. Add time on the T and I can expect to be back in my room, metamorphizing back into a cauliflower, at about 0400 Monday, after what will have been 19 hours of continuous travel.
Will provide further updates.
So, Andrew, to you I say, please, sir, take the bus.
