Our adventures in Cambridge: The Commute

Saturday morning we left the house at 9:15 or so, heading for Penn Station via the C train. We planned to catch the 10:00 am train to Boston, for which we already had tickets. But an A train ahead of us had "mechanical difficulties" and we sat between stations for a murderously long time. By the time we got to Penn, our train was gone.



Oh well, we thought. We exchanged our tickets and waited for the 12:03--which was an Acela Express and should have gotten us to Boston South Station at 3:37. Plenty of time. No worries. I finished folding sewn Spookies and started marking poems I thought I might like to read. But as the time for our departure drew nearer, Amtrak let us down. Our train was 20 minutes late, then 30 minutes late, then 40 minutes late, then 50 minutes late, then 1 hr 10 minutes late. We finally left the station around 1:20. I asked after boarding if the conductor expected to make up time on the way--no, not really. Great. But there was nothing I could do but sit and enjoy the ride, so I did.



I'm cursed with motion sickness (much worse in buses than trains and planes, which was one reason we didn't take the Fung Wah!), which means I can't read for long stretches while in motion. Or sometimes at all. The scenery sliding by as I focus on a page makes me nauseated and dizzy. This is why I prefer to drive--looking straight ahead through the windshield doesn't bother me. And driving gives me something to do. Anyway, I tried pulling the curtain and that helped. Alternated reading with looking out. Pleasant trip.



But as we crept up on 4:00 and were not yet past Providence, I called [expurgated]. Left a message. He was in, but the woman who answered couldn't find him. I said I'd be late because our train was behind schedule, but would call again if I could as we got closer.



Called back just before 5:00 since we were just pulling into Back Bay. Got cut off. Stupid cell phone kept dropping calls. Still had two stops and the cab ride to Harvard Square. At this point, even though I couldn't help the situation by worrying, I was agitated and antsy. The normal case of nerves before a reading was aggravated by the anxiety of being late.



We arrived at South Station about ten after 5:00, I think. We hopped in a cab, said where to go. Arrived at the bookstore at about 5:30, I think. Grabbed a seat in the back as Gina was reading, hoped I hadn't missed too much. She read several poems from her Boog Reader chapbook Saginaw (order from David via editor at boog city dot com). Terrific to hear her, though I was embarassed for arriving in the middle. (Sorry, Gina!) Caught my breath. Etc.