The dangers of reading

Recall from the last post that I took notes on my recent read to better comprehend the plot. After sifting through my notes I realized the plot was, well, enthralling. Understanding what you're reading puts it in a whole new light.

The book is so enthralling, in fact, that I missed my stop on the train today. This would be fine if my stop weren't the last one before the conductors and engineer dock the train in a yard and leave for the night. Riiight....

So I look up from my book and think, "They did NOT just say, 'Everyone off.'" Then I notice that no one else is on the train; then I see my car wizzing past the window into winter-night oblivion.

I grab all my books and notepads and search for a conductor. I see one. I wave hello.

He's disappointed in me at best. I spare him the detail that I am making more work for him because I was enthralled by a fictional letter written by one French broad who's lost her fiance in the war to another French broad explaining a past occurence that may reveal the key to both their perhaps-not-so-dead fiances' whereabouts. I tell him I fell asleep. Deep asleep.

He saunters off to consult with his conductor friend while I notice that he didn't notice the open book and uncapped pen in my hands that have so obviously not just awoken from a slumber. Luckily, they are kind and live near me and say they will drive me to my train station to retrieve my car.

I sit between then in the front of a pickup truck holding the remnants of my peggy-lady lunch in a grocery bag. Their names are Ray and Al; I'm Angela. We talk about Christmas and the pain of receiving a gift you can tell someone bought you just because they felt they had to. I find out that no, Metra trains are not controlled by remote controls; there's an engineer but the conductors don't interact too much with him.

They drop me off and say that tomorrow when they make the "Everybody off" announcement, they'll add, "And wake up Angela!" We'll see if they remember.

~ Angela