The trip to the Turkey Dinner was crowded but uneventful. The trip back, not so much.
My boon companion in tryptophan and I hoisted ourselves on to the southbound Amtrak train and were glad to find seats quite easily. We rolled merrily through the countryside, each of us reading in our respective spots. Afternoon became twilight became evening. Suddenly, the lights failed! I figured it was one of those momentary glitches, but no. The train rolled on but noticeably more slowly, then VERY slowly, and then ceased to roll at all.
Yes indeed, the engine failed! Much travail. Weeping and gnashing. One man, incensed beyond decorum, wielded his voice on the cell phone like a sword. I think he might actually have called for the head of the President of Amtrak for inconveniencing him so mightily (at this point we'd been stalled about seven minutes.)
Another man called a friend and in terrified tones related we were "stuck in the middle of nowhere. Lost!" We were about sixty-five yards from the Croton stop.
Much consternation ensued. We finally get a push from an emergency engine into the Croton station. I scoop up Boon Companion, engage ejector seats (of course I travel with one; you don't?) and hurl us toward the ticket booth. We purchase tickets on the next Metro North (in this direction it would be more aptly called Metro South) train. That train leaves within seconds of us arriving on the correct platform.
The Amtrak crew sneers at us for bailing out. They assure us they will be up and running soon. We don't believe a word they say of course and get on the southbound train. Merrily rolling through the countryside resumes.
We arrive in Yonkers some thirty minutes and ten stops later. What ho! Shivering on the platform are the passengers from the Amtrak we'd been on! The train had limped in to Yonkers and now all the passengers were being transferred to the train we'd gotten on in Croton.
Boon Companion and I smugly congratulated ourselves. We had seats, we'd not waited in the cold, and we'd not been subjected to the uncertainty of knowing if we were going to get stuck again.
The best part is I think Amtrak will actually refund the ticket price! Mr. CellPhone got his ticket refunded (he announced to all and sundry) and there were customer service people who met us at the train when we arrived at Grand Central.
And you wonder why it requires a crowbar to pry me out of this city.
However, it could have been worse!