Here’s to You, Amtrak

Posted on June 2nd, 2015

Dear Amtrak,

Now that Ian has graduated and we are moving west, it’s time for the nature of our relationship to change.  I know, I know… when I say it like that, it sounds like I was just using you to get close to Ian.  But what we had these past three years was real and special, too.  I demonstrated my love for you by giving you 1/3 of my paycheck each month; you reciprocated with a very sweet gesture when you granted me Acela Select Plus status.  So as we part ways for the foreseeable future, I wanted to reflect on some of the positive times we had.  I think it will bring us closure.

Getting to you was never easy.  If the whole “personal circle of hell” thing is real, I know mine will be set in Penn Station during rush hour.  I arrive chronically early because I never want to miss one of our special dates, so I spent Friday evenings between 5:40 and 6pm surrounded by sweaty, frustrated business professionals who just want to go home to their families.  I’m right there with you, frustrated and sweaty business professionals.  Sometimes, you are late, but I never give up.  Masochistically, I am even still happy to see you, even when I know I should be chiding you for your tardiness.

Once you arrive, I find a seat in the quiet car, which is our little slice of heaven together.  My fellow Amtrak disciples take silence very seriously.  It’s a quality we admire.  Once, Ian saw an older woman guarding the door to the quiet car, personally reminding each of her fellow passengers that this was the quiet car, and that talking would not be tolerated.  I laughed along with Ian about how insane that was, all the while knowing that would most likely be me one day.

As we cruise up the eastern seaboard, I needlepoint and watch movies while binge eating foods that have essentially no calories (cherry tomatoes, watermelon).  Eating out of pure boredom is one of my specialties.  I particularly enjoyed the trips when I would BYO and have a little personal pregame so I wouldn’t be too far behind before heading to some Harvard party.  Thanks for that.

I have also developed a little fantasy of living in a coastal Connecticut town, which I’m sure would completely evaporate after one New England winter.  Nevertheless, I always made sure to get a window seat facing the correct direction for maximum daydreaming.

At the most basic level, Amtrak, you moved me from point A to point B so I could spend time with Ian.  But you were a destination in your own right, too.  A symbol of a workweek wrapped up, or a lazy Sunday evening following a relaxing weekend.  I won’t go so far as to say I’ll miss you, even though I can’t help but think about how convenient and easy you are each and every time I have to fly.  We were just star-crossed lovers, brought together by necessity in a particular moment in time in the universe.  But there’s no denying I owe you, and you’ll always have a little piece of my heart.  And a large piece of my bank account.

Most sincerely,

Helen