...or Observations From An Amtrak Virgin.
first of all, CHICAGO BABY!
I was lucky enough to work as a volunteer at BlogHer this year, and I decided to take the train from Dallas to Chicago. 22 hours on a train - with no-one asking me for food or drink or play time or 'where's my pink shirt?' or 'Can I go.....'?
Actually for the most part it was pretty awesome.
Except for the crying babies.
And bratty kids.
And the chick who actually PICKED UP A DUDE on the train and spent all night talking and playing kissy-face with him in the seat next to me (NO I am not jealous at ALL so SHUT IT). Of course the next day by the time we arrived in Chicago he was sort of over it-- she was asking to see his driver's license and he was all "why you gotta ask such personal questions?"
Sometimes Strangers on A Train should stay that way.
BIG EPIC AMTRAK FAIL: No wi-fi.
HOW is that even possible in this day and age?
So I HAND WROTE IN A REAL PAPER JOURNAL (which is very gorgeous, by the way, deep red and a buttery soft suede-y cover and also a fabulous gift from the delightful de-lovely Mamacita)
"Things I Would Have Tweeted If Amtrak Had Wi-Fi".
I look and smell as though I slept on a train... you know, like a hobo.
Sorry, I mean home- and transportationally-challenged.
OH: this is like a circus train!
(well yeah, now that you've come aboard)
Also, lot of crazy people wave at trains.
Sorry, I mean sanity-challenged people.
I'm pretty sure this one couple had sex in the bathroom. What do you call that, the Mile Marker Club?
The amtrak employees on this trip are full of sigh.
Actually I think that Amtrak employees are more disgruntled than airline employees.
Perhaps the Amtrak employees are failed Stewardii.
Sorry, I meant Flight Attendants.
The observation car has really huge windows that are PERFECT for mooning people as they sit at the railroad crossings. Is all I'm saying.
OH: Boy: "Where are we?"
Grandma: "Lincoln, Illinois"
Boy: "Grandpa where are we?"
Grandpa: "LINCOLN, Illinois, now sssshhh."
Boy: "Where is this?"
ME: LINCOLN ILLINOIS YOU LITTLE BASTARD and WHY DO YOU CARE NOW SHUT UP!
(Okay, the last part was only in my head but I ALMOST said it out loud)
On a train, everyone walks like a drunk. Makes it harder to pick out my mark.
Thinking of having a t-shirt made that says "They're just fat, not fake" across the boobs.