My Train Was Late

After walking around the station in search of a cigarette machine or a newsstand of some sort, I dragged my feet up the lengthy flight of stairs in defeat for being forced to be reintroduced to the masses of cattle, hurrying here and there, continuously worrying about what awaits them down the street or around the corner. Personally, on the rare occasions I do have something to worry about, it will usually present itself directly in front of me, not somewhere further on down the tracks.

So here I stand on the sidewalk of a busy “city” street; the smell of exhaust, hot dogs, and illegal Cuban cigars immediately fill me up and I began to wonder who I would have to overpay to get my hands on one of those cigars. I estimated that I had a few hours left before my train arrived. In all my years of travel, a train has never been a couple minutes behind schedule; its always hours and hours behind. I can always just hop on a random one when I get back to station anyway; I really don’t have a set destination.

The intertwining of the mundane and the monotonous made every block, every building, and every street corner appear to be the same. Nevertheless, I kept on truckin’, making my way towards what I would find out to be the center of town. As I officially stepped into the center, I was transported back to my own hometown, where the center of town is a one-block radius consisting of a general store and handful of taverns. Why not stop in for a couple of drinks and hope for a cheap cigarette machine? To my surprise, I find what I’m looking for after stepping into the first establishment. I see it right next to the door. Lady Luck was smiling down upon me so far this day. I light up a Camel and order a gin and tonic. There is no better way to start off a new day in a new town than by having a fresh pack of smokes, a tasty beverage, and meeting my first new friend, the bartender.

Our conversation wasn’t anything special. We exchanged pleasantries and did the whole back and forth thing about who I am and where I’m from and where I’m going, etc. I bought him and a couple of the other tavern patrons some drinks, and in turn they all returned the favor. My first “big-city-that-is-more-of-a-small-town” experience was nothing short of wonderful, however that random train I mentioned earlier should be at the station by now so I needed to start heading toward the station, if I can still walk in a straight line that is.

After a short period of completely forgetting who or where I am, I woke up on a buckin’ bronco and was surrounded by about 100 screaming people! After I lasted my 8 seconds on the bull, I collected my free bottle and high-tailed it to the train station. Lady Luck must have had a ticket as well because my train had been there and gone forty-five minutes ago. And of course, my ticket was non-refundable, and they wouldn’t let me trade it for another one. With no money to my name, I headed back to the bar to see if my new friend needed any help for a few days.

Unbeknownst to me, there was an entire room off to the left of the bar that served as a small restaurant and the bartender worked something out with the kitchen boss to have me do some random tasks and clean up after the place closed. The only downfall to that is that I’d be done work hours before the bar closed. So, what is one to do? I could either save up for another train ticket or stay here for a little while and enjoy the fruits of my labor a little. The bartender is going to put me up at his apartment for as long as I need. He said he lives alone, and he will greatly enjoy the company that I’ll be providing.

That first day of work was the fastest moving day I’ve had in a very long time. The place was always busy, so I would always have something new to do every time I finished my previous task. The pay was decent too, so I was able to spoil myself a little bit at the bar after work every night. After the bar closed, Al, the bartender, convinced two good looking birds to join us at his place for wine and good jazz music. Al had one of the greatest record collections that I had ever seen. Duke Ellington, John Coltrane, Charlie Mingus, and everyone else worth listening to was on his shelf.

The good times were rolling, and everyone was dancing away. Luckily, Al’s neighbors worked the night shift at a factory just outside of town. We danced and drank for what seemed like an eternity, yet only an hour had passed, making the night still young the possibilities virtually endless. I inquired as to whether there was a swimming hole or some other similar place for nightlife activities around here, and Al informed me that there was a beach only ten minutes away. That ten minutes was filled with excitement, drink, and song.

At the beach, I unpacked the knapsack I brought and got out the rest of the wine and we had a couple of tea cigarettes I bought from a younger gentleman that hangs around outside the bar for a good portion of the day. I think we knew what the young man did out there all day long. It was some good grade stuff; however, it didn’t last us very long. The water was cold, not like it mattered. I was hell-bent on jumping in, regardless of the temperature. We made it back to Al’s around sunrise empty-handed. That was the extent of our little aquatic-party-quartet.

After about a month, I had finally saved up enough money to get a new ticket, with enough leftover to get two jugs of wine and a box of Cubans, the wonderful cigars that were responsible for the inviting stench of the city. Approaching the ticket window, I had to quickly decide where I was going to go. I had always thought about visiting The Big Apple, but I don’t know if I’m cut out for having to interact with so many people daily.

Perhaps I could find another random small town that’s a little bit like the one I’m in right now? Except it’ll be one with more social activities for someone like me to overly enjoy. I’ve always wanted to take up bowling or maybe play a round of golf with of the townsfolk. Hell, I’ll even try my hand at swing dancing if the opportunity presents itself. Then again, I’ll more than likely end up in one of the local intellectual establishments, drinking away my nights whilst sleeping away my mornings and early-to-mid afternoons.

Regardless of my decision, I will be completely content with whatever the results are. There is always the option of throwing caution to the wind and either buying a plane ticket, or even better try to be a deckhand on a boat heading for some exotic overseas island. I think I could do well in Prague for a long while. Isn’t that the place where the greatest minds of the 20th Century like Hemingway and Fitzgerald used to hang out and exchange their manuscripts and short stories? I big adieu to Al and Scarlet, one of the girls that accompanied us to Al’s along with her friend Allison. It was a casual arrangement we had, and it wasn’t very hard to say goodbye, although I will always remember the good times with her. The one thing that I heavily miss about this city is the prices they had on wine and smokeable products, along with my cosmic friendship with Al the Bartender.

In closing, my short stint in this poor excuse of a city was the best time I have had in a very long while. Maybe when I’ve seen the rest of the world and do all that I plan to do, I will return to this place for my twilight years. However, I don’t feel that I would fit in with this “set in stone” same-as-always town. I like to roam free and pretty much do as I please, and I’m certain that I’ll never be ready to settle down. But, if I ever had to pick a place to do so, I know what would go on the top of the list.