The Train In Vain: Sharing Commuting Stories

Hey #TTIV readers, I'm pleased to publish another guest offering. This one's from "The Duke of Albany," who recently shared a story about Edgar, the angry traffic cop who attempts to direct traffic into the Hicksville parking facility.

The Duke's latest tale is about a shoe and the gap. The Duke even provided his own crude drawing.

To be clear, we're NOT talking about the Gap that sells khakis. For those unfamiliar with train commuting, there is a gap between the train and the platform, and humans with the most primitive of brain functions can comprehend that they must step over this gap. In recent years, there have been a handful of people who have somehow managed to fall into the gap. If you were to open the skulls of these people, you'd likely find chop meat.

As a result, the rest of us commuters have to listen to endless recorded "Trainsmart" messages from helpful safety pundits such as Al Roker and Alec Baldwin. They remind us to step over the gap.

That gap is what today's post is about. Enjoy.

The Duke's crude drawing

One late evening, as my train home pulled into Hicksville, a mob of passengers congregated around the doors, as is customary. After all, last one out has to clean the lavs.

I stood in the aisle behind a lady with spiky black hair. She happily chatted with fellow commuters as we waited to exit. My train door opened in front of the stairs. Perfect!

Per TTIV custom, I've provided a crude visual reference.

Two by two, the passengers exited the train. As I reached the door, the lady with spiky black hair inexplicably stopped short for a second. WHY? Why did she do that? I was so in tune with the rhythmic beat of exiting passengers that I couldn't avoid a collision.

She was wearing slip-on shoes. As her foot went over the gap, my heavy shoe connected with her heel. As if in slow motion, we watched her shoe disappear into the gap's endless abyss. The lady with spiky black hair, her friends, and I stood dumbfounded on the platform. She looked at me, she looked at her friends, and she looked at the gap. No one knew what to say.

After the train pulled out of the station, a friend of hers shined her mobile phone's flashlight on the tracks to look for the shoe. It was nowhere in sight. Where did it go? Who knows. He asked the lady with spiky black hair, "How much did the shoes cost?" TTIV note: Such a rude question to ask someone. Uncomfortable with the question, she looked at me and said, "How am I supposed to get to my car?" I felt terrible and panicked. I responded, "The station attendant should have a grabber to pull the shoe up." That was helpful, right? Her friend once again asked, "Was it an expensive shoe?" No response.

The lady with spiky black hair hopped down the stairs in a huff, and I followed. She looked back at me angrily. What could I do?

The friend of the lady with spiky black hair saved the day. She offered to drive our victim to her car so she didn't have to hop down the road. The friend also offered transportation to the station attendant to try and retrieve the shoe. Our victim finally exclaimed, "It's not important, I barely paid anything for those shoes!"

Crisis avoided! I slinked to my car and away from the uncomfortable situation.

TTIV stories often have a moral, and this one has a few. Always watch the gap, wear slip-ons at your own risk, and spiky hair should always be styled tastefully. But the most important moral of all is that if you have a line of people behind you, do not stop walking! You interrupt the flow of foot traffic, and it can be perilous to everyone trying to get home.

And one more thing: Don't ask people what they paid for things, it's rude.

Thanks to the Duke of Albany for this story.

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Happy and safe commuting, and may you encounter uncommon sense.
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