Thanksgiving Eve, AKA Rookie Day

Today is Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving. What is it that people do today? They travel. They go see their loved ones. And how do they get there? By any means possible. This includes the Long Island Rail Road. 

Normally, I take the Wednesday before Thanksgiving off, but not this year. I’m hoarding my vacation time. As a result, I’m taking the train home right now, sailing the sea of cluelessness.

It is Amateur Day. Rookie Day. Every person in the New York Metropolitan area with a familial tie to Long Island is on this train. My friend Marsh, who has contributed stories as TTIV’s Metro-North correspondent would say that the API, or Annoying Person Index, is in the red zone.

The woman next to me is chatting away on the phone. She wants to quit her job and become a professional shopper. I’ve heard that yesterday was her birthday about five times in the last 10 minutes. A friend has drama in her life. Her train ticket says she’s going to my station. I bet she stays on the phone the entire trip. 

My friend Octavius, whose peeves you heard about in an earlier post, told me that he rode the train earlier today. Some woman had a huge basket of cookies on the seat next to her. A throng of people was standing but didn’t have the guts to ask her to move the basket. Octavius, professional commuter that he is, went right up to her and asked her to move the pastries. She begrudgingly moved them. Octavius 1, Rookies 0.

The overhead racks are loaded up with bags and suitcases. Somewhere on the other end of a car, a child is screaming. A guy just got up and was thrown when the train jerked, almost directly into my lap. It’s Rookie Day!

I have my music on volume 10 now, and I’ve succeeded in deafening myself. And yet I can still hear the woman next to me, who is scarfing down some alfalfa sprout-based meal in a plastic bowl, talk to her friend about how she and her significant other have become strangers. 

Now with all that out of the way, let me wish you readers a Happy Thanksgiving. None of this stuff really matters, does it? Among many, many other things, I’m thankful for your commuting camaraderie. Writing the blog is therapeutic for me, and I’m glad you all come along for the ride.

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