The train arrives at 3 AM
I wrote this article last year when I was heading to New York City for the first time. It’s been sitting in my draft folder ever since, but I figure it could be worth it to publish now.
I feel like I’ve just stepped into a bad ‘90s horror film. The train station that I’m at is one of the creepiest places I’ve been, and I’m half expecting this man to reveal an axe from beneath his long trench coat just outside. It’s been raining all day long, and the night air has that strange foggy feel to it (without the fog). Looking out now I can see street lights that eerily glow in the night, but not even a single moth is fluttering around them in that familiar way.
The whole place seems ‘off’ to me – including the rusted metal structure out front that reveals the name of the station as “Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Plazza” and the strong steel bars that seem to be barricading the empty windows from something sinister and evil on the outside, or keeping the innocent victims from escaping a different evil on the inside. This isn’t just some weird idea that I’m getting… all the facts seem to point to a single scary truth; that this place is not the best place for the living to reside for any amount of time.
The discolored flooring doesn’t help matters at all, when you consider that cleaning up spilt blood could explain why the colors are all so faded.
With classic music from the ‘70s playing quietly in the background, I have no choice but to acknowledge my surroundings and get to know the other people that are with me in this torturous place. Clashing with the silent night and the placid music is the song of a small child playing in the lobby. Amongst all of the anxiety of the adults, this alone brings to my face a smile, but only lasts until a woman on the other side of the room screams out “Put a sock in that kids mouth, will ya?!”
With that, my worry has left me and I am left with frustration and anger towards her. The slippery-slope of my animosity only grows slipperier as she continues to complain about where the world is heading (to hell), how American politics suck and whether or not she will be able to sit in a seat next to the bathroom. I’d rather hear that child crying over that woman’s voice any day. Maybe this is how the blood stains got on the floor….
My frustration didn’t stop there. It turns out that not only am I in a station full of obnoxious people (there’s a man who likes to play really loud music, a couple who’s on a tourism kick and really proud to share the details, and the group of people staring at a soft spoken Muslim woman while commenting negatively on her and her faith), but my family is at the epicenter of all the noise. It begins with loud laughter and continues with the pestering of customer service people… all the way until we get into the train where, at 3:30 in the morning, I can hear their voices loud and clear over the sounds of silent sleepers all around me.
A few minutes ago they finished their game of ‘Who can make the most noise lifting and lowering their seats’, and the only thing left for them to do now is talk about how excited they are that they get to ride a train. I sit here and type-away at my computer, watching as a young couple makes their way into a bathroom into the back. [Note to self: It’s difficult to open a bathroom door with one hand and try to hold onto lotion with the other, while sucking face and groping around in the dark with the earth bumbling around at 60 mph beneath you.] But why should I object to their choice activities? Maybe that angry woman will get a good show and loosen up a bit.
After all of this, I’m starting to think that the guy with the axe might be a pretty good alternative to the embarrassment, frustration, anxiety and anger that are building up inside of me.
Thus, Day 1 of my trip to New York begins.
UPDATE: Looks like those kids got caught. Three attendants (what would you call them?) were able to open the bathroom door a bit quicker than the frantic lovers were able to do previously. Classic. 
It’s now 3:57 AM, and I have a 15 hour trip ahead of me. I’m going to sleep.
9:32 AM – I think I can understand the reason why that young couple wanted to have some fun earlier. The restrooms on this train are big enough to comfortably fit half a dozen people, let alone two. Maybe that college girl I saw would be interested in examining them in more detail with me… 
Only kidding, but these restrooms are huge!
Until next time. Fin.