Tuesday, May 15, 2012


Last Saturday, commutergirl and I went to the temple to see two of our friends get sealed (to each other).  Being the conscientious individuals we are, we took TRAX.  Per commutergirl's instructions, I had dutifully looked up the train schedule beforehand.  We timed our arrival at Meadowbrook TRAX very well for a Blue Line to Central (they're not making the trains say "Arena" so I'm still going with "Central") that was due at 8:00.  Imagine our suprise, then, when a train that said "Blue-Sandy" pulled in at 7:54, heading north.  It was either six minutes early or fourteen minutes late, both very, very bad, and it was labeled as going the opposite direction.  Oh, well, it was a Blue Line, right?  So we ran a little (along with a woman who exclaimed "Running isn't my forté!" before also running) and caught up to the back of the train.

The station announcements were not working on the train.  The chime would sound, and then nothing would happen.  No matter; we are experts in the order that TRAX stations come in.  Until we got to Courthouse.

See, if you are on the Blue Line and you leave Courthouse, the next station is Gallivan Plaza, and you go straight to get to it.  But if you are on the Red Line and you leave Courthouse, the next station is Library, and you have to turn right.  It does not matter how expert you are in what order the Blue Line stations come in if you feel yourself going around a corner after Courthouse.  Which is what was happening to us.  We exchanged a wordless glance that meant


and braced ourselves to get off at Library and run back to Courthouse.  Or, at least, walk quickly back in heels.  Which commutergirl was wearing, not me.

We didn't have to run, because as the now-color-ambiguous train we were on was pulling into Library, a train that said "Red-Daybreak" was also pulling in, going the other way.  We ran for it and made it, but other people were not so lucky.  The fact that other people were also running for the Red Line train made me feel less crazy, which was good, but I felt bad for them, because now they would have to run back to Courthouse.  Or walk quickly in heels.  We tried to push the button for them, I swear!

We made it back to Courthouse, but the Blue Line we had originally been intending to catch had either already come by or sublimated without warning, because we never saw it.  While we waited for the Green Line to inch its way up Main Street, I checked the posters that were up for the Race for the Cure, to see if we had been on one of the special trains that were running in conjunction with said Race for the Cure.  But we were nowhere near any of the times it said special trains were running.  It was the wrong time for a Blue Line train.  It was the wrong time for a Red Line train.  It had said "Blue-Sandy" and turned right after Courthouse.  I was troubled.

Eventually the Green Line did come, and we still made it to the temple in time.  It was not until much later that night, however, that I happened upon a reasonable explanation for the presence of the train we had ridden that morning.

The devil sent it.  I don't know why I didn't see it before, really.


  1. Oh, that's wonderful. Your ending sure had me laughing.

  2. Is it weird that I read that first paragraph and was like, two friends marrying each other? Why haven't I been informed of this incident of incest within the group? And then I figured that maybe you had friends outside the group that might be marrying each other. Weird.

    1. Well, there's really no one who understands us quite as well as "the group," but we have made a few tentative forays into the outside world.