The Northstar Rail Line, the first heavy rail/commuter rail/train system to be built in eons in the Twin Cities, had its grand opening Saturday (even though regular service starts Monday). I was reminded of it early last week when Mother gave me a flier. She noted that it said that they're giving away free rides, and that if I wanted to go, call her and we'd go Saturday afternoon.
That seemed like a fun idea at the time, some quality mother-son bonding while looking at the latest addition to public transit in our area. But then My Fucking Father wanted to stay home and drive me crazy with his day-trading prowess and his hectoring me over "my future," and he completely dicked over my circadian rhythms for the whole week. I totally forgot about the grand opening until Friday night when I was out checking out the site of our new party; I waited until later in my night, when I got to my final destination at a concert at a bar to call her up and remind her, but by then Mother had fallen asleep. Oh well, I thought, I had to wake up at 9 in the fucking morning for Father, so I'll just sleep in tomorrow and fuck Northstar.
Well, fuck me, but I woke up Saturday morning at around 9:30 -- about three-and-a-half hours after falling asleep -- because My Fucking Father was traipsing out in the hallway and into my sister's room. (What's he doing in there for? Oh -- I left a to-go cup of Coke in there. Yeah, Father, like you're not messy in the computer room.) Oh my God, there is still time for Mother and I to check out the Northstar Rail. But then I realize that they're already preparing to go to work, and if I go out there and invite Mother to do this she might say no, not to mention the possibility of My Fucking Father yelling at me again. I was spasming to get up and march out there to ask her if she wants to go. After all, this is the first day of the new train, and it'll probably be the last and only time we'll get to ride it for free. But I decided to let it slide on the assumption that Mother forgot about the train. It took all my will to let the footsteps I heard leave through the door and hear that door shut very hard, but they went.
About 15 minutes later I decide to get up and leave for the grand opening. You know, it is the grand opening, I'll just look around real quick and then go home. It's fairly close by; you go down a residential road and then you see the tracks. The parking lots, across the street from houses, look like they're built for a public basketball court. It looks like a light rail station, except shiny and new.
I go down under to cross over to the other side. In the middle I see security and Metro Transit officials. One of the officials extends a lanyard with something in it. "Wanna ride the train?" he asks. Well, I thought the train would've left already, so if it hasn't, then hell yeah, I wanna go! Actually, I think I said sure.
I was ready to go through the double doors and up the stairs to the platform to the waiting train, but a guy from the other side threw open the doors. "An hour and a half? I don't have that much time," he said, giving the guy who gave me a complimentary pass his complimentary pass back. Really? It's going to take 90 minutes for this trip? Well, it's almost 11 now ... that means we'll be back by 12:30 ... that doesn't include driving back home, and then at that point I'd have to stay awake because I need to make sure I get to that party ... and who knows if the trains are going to run on time? Yeah, it's new and it's a grand opening party and everyone wants to make sure the ride goes smoothly and runs on time, but they can't precisely guarantee that, and besides, do you want to be like Hitler? You shouldn't, which means that I won't get the sleep I need, won't be able to finish the things my parents want me to do for them, and may mean I won't be in the right mindset at the party -- if I make it to the party on time, or even at all, if I don't pass out on my bed as soon as I return home. Besides, Grandmother's home.
What clinched it is, as usual, me finding some self-justification for not going by passive-aggressively blaming others. Specifically, I was dismayed that I was not told beforehand that the whole trip would take 90 minutes because the terminus at the other end of the station had a party and was serving cake and what not. Maybe somewhere like the flier Mother gave me, or a huge sign just outside the ground-level entranceways. I'd be able to make a decision if you would just let me prepare, guys! Feeling I was deprived of that basic human right, I too returned my comp pass for the virgin train trip out of the city station.
I went on over to the other side of the station; this is where people coming from the other side get to park, so it's just more lots. And then, as is the case most of the time when I still have time to do so, I reverse my decision. To hell with my parents and Grandmother, fuck the party and sleep -- this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!!! So I walk back down into the underground and ask the guy if I can grab my pass again. Only this time he didn't look like he had any passes to hand out. I asked him anyway, and he told me that the train was about to leave at 11 o'clock. That's when I looked across the way from him; above a door, in a place I would have no reason to look at because gazing up there was a necessity for nothing I wanted to do, was a sign that specifically pertains to that day's activities: "Train Will Leave At 11. It Will Return Around 12:30." Now if I was that sign when I was given the pass, if I could have been told in a tangible, concrete way what is the time commitment, I wouldn't've have felt so burned and ill-prepared, and then I probably would've decided then and there to take the pass and board the train. But no, there's a sign all the fuckin' way up there. You might as well just post that in the employee break room.
So the train left the very minute all this happened. I was allowed to go up to the station platform, the place where you actually embark and disembark the train, but soon was shooed down per security. But the train -- and a memory that would've last me all my days, the one about the time I was aboard the First Train From Town Into The City -- was long gone.
I drove home thinking only one thing: Better make the time you could've spent enjoying the Northstar worth it, asshole. But I just know I'm going to waste it, either by fucking around on the Internet or by lying in my bed trying to fall asleep but failing. Well, at least I'll be around to make sure Grandmother's safe. But when I get home I see the white SUV of her friend parked in the driveway. You mean to tell me that one of my reasons not to board the train -- that I didn't want my Grandmother to be too lonely -- was completely unfounded because one of her homies decided to drop on by?!
For the record, I didn't do as much as I need to do on the computer; there was Internet stuff I needed to look up for my 'Rents and I did only some of it before I decided to be lazy and just crawl into my bed till 1.
My saving grace? I think I passed out for, like, 15 minutes just before I had to "wake up" at 1.
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