Today, for the second time in 2 years, my life was inconvenienced by the Long Island Railroad. Last year, I was trying to get to the city from Bayside to see a Knicks game. I got to the Bayside station only to find it closed because some genius realized he wanted to go west not east and instead of climbing the steps to cross the tracks, decided he could made it faster by jumping into the tracks and running across to hop onto the other platform. In a shocking turn of events, he didn't make it. I had to get a ride to Jamaica and take the train to Penn from there. But at least then I had options.
This evening was a different story. I had to get to Washington Square by 8:00 to see my boyfriend's trio perform. I didn't want to cut it too close so I chose to take the 6:52 train from Bayside to Penn, which was an express so it would get me to the city by 7:15, allowing me plenty of time to take the subway downtown. The train was on time; actually, shockingly, it was 2 minutes early. So I get on the train which is for some reason all retro-looking and makes me feel like I'm lost in the '70s.
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We stop at Flushing-Main Street and are on our way to the next station, Woodside, when the conductor comes on the speaker to tell us that there is an obstruction on the tracks in between where we were and Woodside and we'd have to stop for a while and wait for it to be cleared. When he stopped the train, we were "conveniently" at Mets-Willets Point station, which automatically made me think that this was going to be a lot longer of a delay than he was making it out to be. After about five minutes of sitting at the station in silence, he comes back on the speaker and announces that he will opening the doors so we could have "some fresh air" while we wait; the police had the track ahead closed looking for a trespasser. At that moment I was deciding whether my best bet was to wait out this indeterminate delay, or to hop on the 7 train. After a series of phone calls to my dad & boyfriend, I came to the conclusion that I should just wait.
Ten minutes after the doors open, the conductor returns to the speaker once again, mumbles something that no one in my car heard, and that was it. So I asked around to see if anyone had picked up anything to no avail. Then I look out the door and I see the conductor leaving. Great. So we all go outside and someone asks him what he said, to which he replies, "The train in front of ours hit and killed someone in between here and Woodside. We'll be here for at least an hour, probably longer. I'd suggest taking the 7 to the city or calling a cab."
So I'm now thinking, fantastic. I'm stranded at Citi Field because the trains running back east don't stop at this station during the off season, and if I take the subway I'll get to the city far too late to catch the performance and will have wasted my time. Thankfully, my dad volunteered to come get me and drive into Manhattan. Of course, now I'm standing out in the middle of a dark Corona, alone with the except of some creepy Spanish circus going on in the corner of the parking lot off of Roosevelt Avenue.
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When I called my dad to ask him to pick me up, he jokingly told me, "don't stand in the shadows." I laughed until I realized how shady it is there at night when there's no game or anything going on. I was originally standing across the street from Citi Field, until I noticed a scary-looking guy there, so I crossed the street and waited inside the gates of the stadium area.
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I got bored after a while and decided to just go stand out by the bus stop and wait for my dad. No one was around so I was just leaning on a light pole. I see my dad coming from down the block after about 15 minutes, and I get into the car, glad that I'm not stranded anymore. When I get in, my dad says, "What was up with that guy standing behind you?" I was confused for a minute until I looked up at where I was just standing to see a random Hispanic dude. Needless to say I was sufficiently freaked out and I never want to be in Corona at night ever again.
So my dad is nice enough to drive me to where I needed to go, but of course by the time I had gotten there the concert had already started and they wouldn't let me in until intermission, and I totally missed it.
Figures. Like my life.
This evening was a different story. I had to get to Washington Square by 8:00 to see my boyfriend's trio perform. I didn't want to cut it too close so I chose to take the 6:52 train from Bayside to Penn, which was an express so it would get me to the city by 7:15, allowing me plenty of time to take the subway downtown. The train was on time; actually, shockingly, it was 2 minutes early. So I get on the train which is for some reason all retro-looking and makes me feel like I'm lost in the '70s.
.jpg)
We stop at Flushing-Main Street and are on our way to the next station, Woodside, when the conductor comes on the speaker to tell us that there is an obstruction on the tracks in between where we were and Woodside and we'd have to stop for a while and wait for it to be cleared. When he stopped the train, we were "conveniently" at Mets-Willets Point station, which automatically made me think that this was going to be a lot longer of a delay than he was making it out to be. After about five minutes of sitting at the station in silence, he comes back on the speaker and announces that he will opening the doors so we could have "some fresh air" while we wait; the police had the track ahead closed looking for a trespasser. At that moment I was deciding whether my best bet was to wait out this indeterminate delay, or to hop on the 7 train. After a series of phone calls to my dad & boyfriend, I came to the conclusion that I should just wait.
Ten minutes after the doors open, the conductor returns to the speaker once again, mumbles something that no one in my car heard, and that was it. So I asked around to see if anyone had picked up anything to no avail. Then I look out the door and I see the conductor leaving. Great. So we all go outside and someone asks him what he said, to which he replies, "The train in front of ours hit and killed someone in between here and Woodside. We'll be here for at least an hour, probably longer. I'd suggest taking the 7 to the city or calling a cab."
So I'm now thinking, fantastic. I'm stranded at Citi Field because the trains running back east don't stop at this station during the off season, and if I take the subway I'll get to the city far too late to catch the performance and will have wasted my time. Thankfully, my dad volunteered to come get me and drive into Manhattan. Of course, now I'm standing out in the middle of a dark Corona, alone with the except of some creepy Spanish circus going on in the corner of the parking lot off of Roosevelt Avenue.
.jpg)
When I called my dad to ask him to pick me up, he jokingly told me, "don't stand in the shadows." I laughed until I realized how shady it is there at night when there's no game or anything going on. I was originally standing across the street from Citi Field, until I noticed a scary-looking guy there, so I crossed the street and waited inside the gates of the stadium area..jpg)
I got bored after a while and decided to just go stand out by the bus stop and wait for my dad. No one was around so I was just leaning on a light pole. I see my dad coming from down the block after about 15 minutes, and I get into the car, glad that I'm not stranded anymore. When I get in, my dad says, "What was up with that guy standing behind you?" I was confused for a minute until I looked up at where I was just standing to see a random Hispanic dude. Needless to say I was sufficiently freaked out and I never want to be in Corona at night ever again.
So my dad is nice enough to drive me to where I needed to go, but of course by the time I had gotten there the concert had already started and they wouldn't let me in until intermission, and I totally missed it.
Figures. Like my life.
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