Shut up. Daddy missed you too. Get over it. I'm not getting paid to make you laugh. Not yet, anyway.
I need to get this off my chest - I LOVE AMTRAK. There, I said it. For someone who has a fear of flying but loves to people watch, Amtrak is a second to none shit show. In early January, Timothy and I boarded a train in Harrisburg bound for Raleigh. Get ready...
So, we get to the Harrisburg station a little before 5am. Anymore, there is only one stairway to two tracks active. There is a sign clearly posted that says "all trains this stairway", yet people are still asking "is this the train to Boston/Albany/Miami/Phoenix?" Not exactly. This is the train to Philadelphia where you will board another train to your final destination - ya know - like it says on your ticket. Panicky people slay me. I just want to look at them and say "No! This is the train to Honolulu." and just wait. During all of this, we sat on long benches facing large televisions that were broadcasting a loop about how safe and secure Amtrak is. "If you see something, say something." We'll get back to that later.
We pass through security (again, saving it for later) and board the train. Now, because the train to Philadelphia goes into and out of the same side of 30th Street Station each train car has seats facing both directions. So, my first priority is to prevent vomiting. Facing backwards while lurching through Lancaster County at 100 miles per hour? No, thanks. That, my dear, should come with a bag. We get settled into our forward-facing seats and take a deep breath. The "start" button of vacation has been pushed.
The train begins to move out of the station. I get out my iPad to start some serious Pinterest time and Tim flips his eyelids shut. So relaxed. We pass down the historic Pennsylvania Mainline and enter 30th Street Station. The first leg is done. We get off the train and ascend the staircase into the beautiful terminal.
Nuts, right? Philadelphia is home to the most beautiful train station, ever. So, while we are waiting for our transfer to the Raleigh bound Carolinian we begin to notice the excessive amount of security they have at this major Amtrak hub. (It's time.) I see a bulky (fat) man walking through the station dressed in security garb. Billy club, gun, pepper spray, dog toy. Dog toy? He has a dog toy in his hand. So strange. Where's he going with that thing? He continues to trodge through the station to a far corner. Oh, shit. There is a "security" dog. Sleeping. On a bed. In the corner. Sleeping.
He jostles the dog to life with the toy. The dog appears to be excited to play, but is having trouble getting up. Oh, shit. That dog is OLD. Like, really old. Who are they kidding with that dog? If I were gonna blow something up, that dog would be the last deterrent. The scary old lady selling roses out of her purse poses more of a threat. She'd probably cut a bitch.
That was the security. That's it. Nobody checking bags, nobody sniffing anything. No x-ray vision goggles. Just a fat guy with a golden girl of a dog.
Stay tuned for more from our next leg of the trip on the Carolinian!
