San Antonio Adventure Day One

Sometimes I think about the days when Mike and I would just hop in the car and take off without packing a lunch, snack, or even a bottle of water!  Nowadays, we have to leave home equipped with everything and ready for any kind of emergency that crops up.  It can take hours to ready the car for take- off.  If you have ever read Erma Bombeck’s essay about their impromptu vacation, you can get a good picture of what it takes for us to leave the house.  The Bombeck’s spur of the moment vacation ends up involving a run to the store for more underwear, cancelling the paper, redirecting the mail, alerting all the neighbors, boarding the dog, changing the oil in the car, and cleaning out the refrigerator.  Sometimes I think Erma was writing about me!

It all began with having babies and all the baby equipment and supplies that automatically arrive with the first baby. Once the babies were born, we suddenly found ourselves packing a suitcase to go to church.  We’re Catholic.  Church only takes one hour.  Always.  All Catholics expect to make a hasty exit exactly one hour from the minute the service starts.  Most priests kindly oblige.  Yet, we couldn’t make it through that one hour without an arsenal of supplies.   I mark the beginning of our complicated take-offs with the advent of our children, but it isn’t because our children are needy or a problem in any way, but rather because that is when we needed to start watching where our pennies were going. 

In order to live on one income and go on vacation, one has to think ahead in order to budget enough money for all the fun things on the agenda and not leave the children starving.  We never waste money on convenience things like a drink at McDonald's when thirst strikes, cable TV, or heat in the winter.  Just kidding.  Kind of......Hanging out the laundry instead of drying it in the dryer and packing picnics leaves us more moola to take a fun vacation.   Cheap, but fun vacations can be done with much thoughtfulness and frugality, but it is also more work, packing, and planning.  To me, it is worth it.  Mike---maybe not so much. 

We carefully packed our suitcases with the least amount of clothes.  We packed our most comfortable things.  We tried to carefully assign the outfits to meet each day’s needs, such as dark shirts for the train.  Dark shirts will hide the slop we drop while we are eating on the train.    Light colored shirts don’t soak up the sun while we are walking in Texas in the heat.  We moved on to packing our food.  (Note to husband:  I am sparing you the retelling of your shorty-shorts saga.) 

This time we only took our lunch and a yogurt snack.  I did throw in some dried fruit and nuts against Mike’s wishes.  We also took some Snickers in case of an emergency.  ( A chocolate emergency, of course!) Mike carried the food bag the last time.  We didn’t eat all the food we took and had to lug it with us through the whole trip.  We also lugged bottled water with us last time. This was very heavy, yet wasn’t enough to keep us hydrated.  We also had to buy more at a convenience store in AZ.  Then we had to lug it along with us until we drank it.   We made an amazing discovery before this trip.  We purchased Brita water bottles for everyone in the family.  Everyone could carry one water bottle and just refill it, but no matter how yucky the water was, the filter would take care of any bad taste. Plus, no throwing away the plastic water bottles, which is a waste of resources.

Mike wanted to just eat all meals and snacks on the train.  He still thinks that we should just be able to pick up and leave with no baggage like we did B.C.  (Before Children)  I knew that would be a bad, bad waste of our money.  The food on the train wasn’t even very good last time.  Plus it was outrageously expensive.  So we came up with a better plan!  We would just do a little homework and find out the phone number of the Domino's Pizza delivery guy for whichever city we were near during dinner.  We researched it on the Internet, looked at train schedules, chose our pizzas, copied down the phone number for the St. Louis Domino's Pizza near the station, and looked up the St. Louis train station address.  What clever, smart people are we !!!!!  We practically broke our arms patting ourselves on the back for this one.  There is more than one way to get food on the train.  I couldn’t believe what a good idea this was going to be.  I imagined everyone on the train oohhing and ahhhing at our clever prowess.  They would wish they were us!

My eyes popped wide open at 6:00 AM on Sunday morning.  We didn’t have to get up so early this time because we were using the Rensselaer Train Station instead of the Lafayette Train Station. We had already fulfilled our Sunday church obligations the night before…..the beauty of being a Catholic J.  I was really excited to get going because I thought this train trip would be easier than the last, more of a vacation than an adventure.  Plus, I had been on a diet for about 3 months, and I was going to have Domino's Pizza tonight!!  I couldn’t wait!  Thick, chewy, stringy cheese, and spicy sauce.  I popped right out of bed. 

We finished packing and had our breakfasts done in just the right amount of time.  Our non-church attending friend was right on time to pick us up.  Everything was going great, but I had one little issue…..a half of bag of trash.  What are you supposed to do with your trash when you are leaving for a week?   Ask the neighbors to keep your stinky trash in their garage?  No.  Ask someone to come over and put out your stinky garbage while they know you are relaxing by the pool?  No.  Put it out early and let all the critters have at it?  No.  Keep it in your own stinky garage and throw up when you get home from the smell of it?  Then have to keep it several more days until trash pick-up day?  I think not.  Hmmmmm….do something illegal like put it at a park trash can?  Maybe……Now mind you…..I am NOT admitting to anything, but I did walk down to the park with my half of bag of trash and see that there was lots of other bags of household trash in the trash can……Meanwhile, Anita was in the back of her car with the kids, and Mike was driving her car.  They stopped at the park to pick me up.  I was still in a quandary about what to do with the bit of trash. 

Everyone in the car rolled down their windows and shouted in unison, “Get in the car!”  I launched into my “I don’t think I should pitch the garbage here.  What if someone is looking?  Is this a felony?” speech.  Mike and Anita said, “Get in the car!!!!!!!!”  I began again, “But we might get in trouble….Look,” Mike interrupted me, “the trash can belongs to the township.  Who pays the township?  Where do they get their money?  We are paying for this.  Besides this is just a little bit of trash compared to what someone else threw away.  Get in the car!”  Peer pressure won, and off we sped.    I am embarrassed to say that when we arrived home, the Wolcott Enterprise had a front page article on people throwing their trash away at the park.  I was surprised that the headline didn’t read:  Attention:  Janelle Yelton:  The next time you throw your trash away at the park, you will be fined.  But then, this begs the question, how much trash can you throw away at the park?  It was only a little bit of stinky trash.  There are trash cans……why are there trash cans there if we can’t throw our trash into them?  I am just sayin’………

We drove right to the train station with no problems.  We had plenty of gas, no flat tires, no detours, or police barricades.  We arrived with at least 20-30 minutes to spare.   I was a little worried about catching the train in Rensselaer because it is such a small station, if they didn’t see someone standing on the platform, they probably wouldn’t even stop.  Anita pointed out her old house where she lived before she became a Wolcottite. She hugged us all good-bye.   We waved bye and blew kisses from the platform. 

Mike called Amtrak for the train status to see if it was on time.  It was.  There was a man on the platform with a fold-up bike minding his own business.  We took a few pictures and waited patiently.  Meanwhile, another car arrived.  This passenger was going to wait in his car, but he was talking on his cell phone so loud that we had to know his business and his poor vernacular whether we wanted to or not.  Strike one. Eventually, he ambled his filthy, stinky self up to the platform with his painting tools, marked with his painters’ union emblems…….The unions have not endeared themselves to Mike over the years.  Mike is a carpenter, and his favorite boss was constantly harassed by the Lafayette carpenters’ union.  Strike 2.  Then the guy came up to Natalie and I and proceeded to tell us how the train never comes on time.  We will be sitting here for hours.  Sundays are even worse.  My stomach did a little flip flop.  When I am in a situation in which I am unsure of myself, I tend to believe what I am told.  Remember, Mike just called for train status and the recording said it was on time.  I glanced over at Mike, who rolled his eyes.  Not 2 minutes later, we heard the train blowing its horn as it approached Rensselaer!  Whew!  Strike three!  Obviously this guy was just a blowhard.  I stole a secret glance at him thinking he was probably put in his place and embarrassed of his recent words.  Not a chance!

Last time our conductor on the Hoosier State train was a cross between Captain Kangaroo and Kent Hall.  I was surprised to see a different conductor.  This different conductor was very sharp and alert even though he had been riding the train for miles and miles before Rensselaer.  His suit was perfectly pressed and tailored.  His long dreadlocks were impeccably neat.  His eyes twinkled, and he joked with us as we boarded.  He was just what a conductor should be.  Well, I wasn’t expecting the dreadlocks, necessarily, but it was a non issue because he was mannerly and neat.

My fingers were itching to write, but alas…..I forgot to bring a journal.  This whole recount of our vacation may or may not be true........Just kidding!  It's true!  We were officially on our way to San Antonio by way of Domino's Pizza in St. Louis.  Bring on vacation! 

The kids sat behind us in a seat together.  Mike and I sat in front of them.  The kids had their heads together laughing and talking quietly.  Many people on this train were sleeping because they had been riding since the East Coast.  We know from experience how annoying it is to be awakened when noisy people get on the train, so we were careful to keep it quiet.  Mike admitted to a headache and just kept his eyes closed most of the way to Chi-town.  Not me, of course!  I like to look at the other people and make up stories about them.  Sometimes they are sad stories that make me cry.  Yes, I am really that stupid!  I noticed a man that just had to have boarded in Indiana.  He was making his way to the back of our car, where the restroom facilities were located.  He had a long mustache and overalls. Definitely from a rural area.   He was tall and on the big side of things.  “Man!” I thought to myself.  “Seriously, overalls?”  He looked like Uncle Jesse on the Dukes of Hazard.  At one time, I thought that was a good show.  I warned you I was stupid!  I averted my eyes.  No eye contact.  No eye contact. 

I stood up to pull out our carefully thought-out healthy snacks.  I packed Key lime yogurt and oatmeal granola bars.  My bag was over the next seat ahead of us because the Japanese man, who was asleep in that seat, didn’t appear to have any luggage. We had a lot, so it was over his seat. So while I was fiddling with my bag, pulling out the snacks, a Japanese girl made her way down the aisle.  I presumed she was going to the restroom.  Back she came, so I sucked in and made way for her again.  The snacks were divvied up, while dreams of Domino's Pizza danced in my head.  About the time our snacks were finished, the Japanese girl came back with the conductor.  She was frantic and crying.  The conductor stopped in front of our seat and pointed to the man sleeping there.  The woman was soothed, but then puzzled.  I know she was thinking she looked through the car twice and didn’t see him.  I realized what had happened.  I was blocking her view of him while I was getting the snacks down.  So much for losing weight and feeling thin!  I tried to tell her what happened, but she didn’t speak English and went back to her seat in the front still puzzled.  I think Alfred Hitchcock wrote a play about a disappearing man on a train.  I can’t remember  how it ended, but a fat lady blocking the view would have made a perfect Hitchcock ending.

We arrived in Chicago like experts.  We knew which way to walk after deboarding.  We knew where the door was to enter the station.  We knew where to lug our luggage and sit down.  We knew where to find the monitor and find out what time the Texas Eagle would be boarding.  Uncle Jesse sat down near us and gave us a polite nod…..like.... I know you are from Indiana too. 

We had decided to stay put at the station this time.  Last time we put our gear in a locker and went out to see the city.  We had an outrageously fun time.  This time, Mike had a headache, the lockers were a headache, and we didn’t have as much time.  We could have probably seen the Sears Tower, now Willis Tower, because it is only about a block or two away.  However, we didn’t know what kind of wait time there would be.  Anyway, we have been to the top of really tall buildings before.  AND do you know that it costs about $100.00 to go to the top of the Sears Tower for a family of four?  So we nixed it. But 3 hours was a long wait in a crowded boarding room.

I fished out our lunch and passed it out.  We settled in to people watch. Well, everyone except Harrison.  He was burning through a book.  I just knew he wouldn’t have enough books to last him 42 hours to Texas and 42 hours back.  He devours books so fast.  He and Mike share an interest in the Clive Cussler books, so they packed some of their books to share.  Uncle Jesse was playing a beeping, noisy game on his phone.  Later in Texas, he would tell me that he wanted my husband’s sandwich with the homemade bun SO bad in the Chicago terminal. He thought my cooking looked really, really good! I wished that I would have shared mine with him.  He turned out to be a super intelligent, nice guy.  I decided the reason he wore overalls on the journey is because he was so secure in who he was and what he was doing that he didn’t give a hoot about what a twerp like me might think of his overalls. 

Across the way was a sort of family unit with a dog.  Not being a dog lover, I was kind of instantly on guard.  I couldn't believe that a dog was allowed in the station! In this family unit there is an alpha male about 45 years old, a daughter(?) about 23, and a grandma(?) about 65.  And a dog.  They are loud talkers……and arguers……dog loving people come up to see their dog and pet it, etc.  I hear Mr. Alpha Male saying that it is a service dog.  That is why it is allowed in the station.  Hmmmm….No one looked blind, but maybe there was some other reason for having the dog.  However, I have always heard that you aren’t supposed to run up to service dogs and pet and play with them, which over the course of several hours, happened several times.  Plus this dog wasn’t on the right kind of leash.  Plus the man filled Fido’s water dish at the water fountain, then Fido spilled it all over the floor.  Oh. Goody.  Most disturbingly of all, Mr. Alpha Male was mean to the dog in an aggressive way.  He pushed and smacked the dog.  Later on, a real service dog came by with a blind man and his wife.  The whole dog situation looked totally different.  We always wondered if the Amtrak personnel let the dog get on the train.

After those people left, the terminal became very crowded.  A youngish, overweight woman came through the crowd with a ton of luggage and 3 kids.  The youngest kid wasn't cooperating, which made a lot of confusion in the crowd.  Finally, the older boy about 9 or 10 went back and picked up the child and brought her kicking and screaming to the mother, who just looked on like there wasn't a thing she could do about the misbehavior of her child.  They found empty seats in which to sit, right where the dog people had sat.  One of the children chose to sit on the floor.....yep.....in the puddle of Fido's spilled water.  Mama gets out her cell phone and starts talking to her friend.  I heard her say that she had to buy an adult ticket for one of the kids because she wasn't allowed to travel with 3 kids to one adult.  Interesting.  I wonder why?

Natalie was getting really tired of sitting so she and I went on a long walk to the restroom.  The Amtrak restroom was closed for cleaning, so we had to find the Metra restrooms.  We messed around for a while, finding a secluded place to do some stretching exercises.  We went outside the doors in the marble pillar room to catch a glimpse of the Sears Tower.

 When we got back to the waiting room, Amtrak had already called for the old and the young to begin boarding the Texas Eagle.  Evidently, Uncle Jesse was taking the Texas Eagle as well.  He read the monitors incorrectly and didn’t realize he was supposed to board. I didn't get all that story because I was gone, but Mike helped him to get boarded on time.  We went ahead and got in line because a long line was starting to form before the personnel even called for boarding the Texas Eagle.  It was a good thing we did! We were about to discover the difference in traveling Amtrak in January as opposed to June.  The train was so packed that not everyone had a seat, let alone, four seats together.  Later I heard that not only was the Texas Eagle fully booked, but there was a school group with a mixed up date of travel.  They let them board as well and sleep on the floors of the observation car.  This did not make for very pleasant travel conditions on board the Texas Eagle. 

 A nice Midwestern kind of man had seen Mike helping Uncle Jesse and felt that we must be in the “know”.  He came to ask me if he should get in line and which line he should be in.  The confusion stemmed from our train having 3 numbers.  I explained to him what I thought was the reason.  The train from Chicago, The Texas Eagle, starts out as one number.  It goes to San Antonio.  While in San Antonio, it hitches onto different cars and goes to Los Angeles the next morning as a different number and called The Sunset Limited.  Another part of the train goes east to New Orleans, yet as another number.  He decided to get in line too because as confusing as this train line was, he figured he better stick with the strangers who seemed to know what they were doing.

After standing about an hour with our luggage, they started tearing tickets and boarding the train.  This was a really, really long train.  We walked and walked and walked down the concourse.  Car after car.  Amazingly, no attendants.  We weren’t really sure which car to board.  Finally, there was an attendant.  I asked, "Which car do we board?  He said, “Not these.  These are the sleepers.”  Hmmmmm…….How did he know we didn’t have sleeper tickets?   Do we look like we can’t afford sleeper tickets?  I’ve seen the sleeper cars.  They aren’t clean.  They aren’t the Four Seasons Hotel.  Heck!  They aren’t even the Super  8 Motel!  This guy couldn’t even spell Super 8!

On down the concourse…..farther and farther.  Still no one to tell us where to board.  The people in front of us got into a car with an open door, so I followed.  I am embarrassed to say that I couldn’t find the upstairs!  Well, it wasn’t where it was located on the Southwest Chief.  In fact, everything was backwards to the Southwest Chief, which was even more confusing since I was toting a really heavy bag and about 100 people were now piling up at the door waiting for us to clear the way.  Mike is shouting, “Janelle, UPSTAIRS!”  Duh.  I knew that but I couldn’t find the stairs!  All I could find was bathroom after bathroom.   Mike pointed the other way and I started schlepping my bag up the narrow twisty-turny stairway with 100 people behind me.  These stairwells are only made for one person at a time.  Even two children can't fit side by side.  Plus, the stairs are really steep because there isn't enough room in the car for the rise over the run.  We were really packed into it when a large lady person of color and a bad attitude decided SHE WAS COMING DOWN.  I politely said, “You need to go back up because the stairwell is full of people with their luggage at this minute.”   She actually said, “I was here first,” shoving me against the wall, knocking my bag down the stairs onto Harrison and pushed her way down.  Now I can say I have been butt slammed.  

The stairwell intensity was nothing like trying to find a seat when we got to the top.  I was really missing Samantha from the Southwest Chief.  Samantha greeted us at the train door, gave us an assigned seat, and told us how much fun it was going to be to have our family riding with her!   Wow.  She was definitely trained in a different facility than the attendants on the Texas Eagle.  I couldn’t find 4 seats together.  I was having a hard time finding 2! 

We decided that even though Amtrak guaranteed us seats together, since we were a family, we better take what we could get before what we could get was gone.  Harrison and I stowed our luggage and gear over head, while Natalie and Mike threaded their way to the back.  I saw Natalie and Mike were seated so we sat and started noticing our surroundings.   It didn’t look like the train got cleaned because there was an empty water bottle and a paperback book stuck in the seat pocket.  Harrison picked up the book and started reading the back.  I was ranting in my head that the train didn’t get cleaned at the start of the line.  Soon a man came and snatched the book from Harrison’s fingers and grabbed the empty, crushed bottle.  Oops!  Evidently, we took his seat.  He looked annoyed.  But there wasn’t anywhere else to sit without leaving our kids to fledge on their own.  If he wanted his seat saved, he should have stayed in it while everyone was boarding.  Then when they marked the seat with a ticket overhead, showing where he was going, he could leave. 

When we were underway, the attendant finally made his appearance.  Lucky for him, he missed all the vying for seats and quarrels that the passengers were having because he wasn’t doing his job.  When he got to us I told him San Antonio, so he could write it on the ticket and stick it over our seats.  He asked if it were just the 2 of us. I must look like the old woman in the shoe.   I told him that actually we were a family of 4, but couldn’t get seats together.  He very nicely asked some singles to move to our seats so our family could all sit together.  Unfortunately, the singles didn’t want to move.  Then this other couple of 2 adults wanted to be put together.  He told them no because he was only moving the family with children.  Much quarrelling ensued.  Not with us.  With them.  I quickly grabbed my bag.  Harrison also grabbed his stuff and we moved back by Natalie and Mike.  I quietly thanked the attendant for going to all the trouble to put us together and let him know how much we appreciated his help.  Two bad things resulted in the seat change.  Harrison didn’t actually get all of his stuff grabbed up in his hurry.  AND  once we were settled in our new seats, Mike leaned over and whispered, “ I am really glad you guys are back here with us now, but this mom and the 3 kids in front of us is going to make for a long 42 hour ride.”  Right on cue, the 3 year old started screaming and fighting with the 10 year old.  We’re talking power-drill-though-the-head-voice on this kid.  Yep.  They were the family from the terminal.  You know the mom who wasn't supposed to be traveling with 3 children by herself without another adult.......the one with the kid that sat in Fido's water.......

Lovely.  Right out of Chicago, we came to a stop.  We had to wait on freight trains to clear the tracks so we could continue on.   This happens because Amtrak is only “borrowing” the tracks from big shipping lines that own the tracks.  While we knew this could happen, it never happened when we were going out west.  Bummer.  Finally we were headed south again.  There wasn’t too much to see yet because it was just Midwestern towns and farmland, nothing new to us.  The cafe lady on the intercom called out twice that someone lost a personal item, and it could be retrieved by identifying it in the cafe car.  We disregarded that announcement, but later on, Natalie was missing her headband, so Mike and Natalie went to the cafe car to see if that was the personal item.  It wasn't.   

A couple of hours later, we shot through an area populated by the Amish.  I think this was my favorite part of the window watching on this trip.  Each home was freshly painted.  The yards were neat and clean.  The gardens were huge and weed free.  One home had strawberry plants along the ditch in two rows (one row on each side of the ditch) for about a mile.  The horses were in their pens and watching the train roll by.  Every now and then you could catch a glimpse of a buggy heading down a gravel road, stirring up dust.  One family was sitting in their backyard on the grass and waving to the train as it sped past.  I did a quick flailing of arms as we passed.  The farms were fenced squares.  This way of life was broken a few miles later by an antique 50’s pick-up truck driving down a gravel road that cut between two healthy cornfields.  Illinois has had a lot more rain than Indiana.  Very charming.

No stops on the Texas Eagle until St. Louis.  At St. Louis we should have about 40 minutes for the train to refuel, lose trash, and take on water.  And remember…..the Yeltons are going to have PIZZA!  Because we are smart and clever and no one else has ever thought of this before.  I put in a call home into Grahm to make sure that St. Louis was on our time, so we would know when to call the pizza guy  to make the pizza.  We would have to time it just right.  We did have a 40 minute window so we would be safe.  I quietly griped to her about the family from hell in front of us.  She said that we were such a fun family we would probably think of something fun to do with the bad kids to entertain them.  I hadn't thought of being proactive. But, alas, I didn't have it in me. I didn't want to babysit for 42 hours while on vacation.  Now that I have had the experience of raising two children of my own, people who seem to be clueless about how to teach their children to behave annoys me. It really is fundamentally simple.  It really is about taking the time to teach the young child how to act.  Why do young parents not want to invest time in this crucial task?  Instead, I passed out earplugs to my family.  I told you we pack for emergencies!

I thought it would be smart to ask the attendant if we were still on time and what time we would arrive in St. Louis, so we could order ahead, without annoying the Domino's people too much by giving them a wrong time.  When the attendant came through the car again, I asked him if the train was on time and if we would arrive at approximately the time scheduled.  He looked like I was about to ask him a hard question.  I had heard him say that he had been working on the Texas Eagle for 5 years.  He told me he didn’t know what time the Texas Eagle arrived in St. Louis every night.  What is this?  Play dumb so you don’t have to answer any questions?  Seriously?  You have ridden this train every night for 5 years and can’t remember what time the train is scheduled to stop for a big refueling stop?  I would have checked the schedule myself, but low and behold this train didn’t keep handy schedules for the patrons to use like the other train we had ridden.  This was to be a good example of the kind of service provided by the workers on the Texas Eagle.

So when we guessed to the best of our knowledge when we were 20 minutes from St. Louis, Mike called the pizza place.  I was so excited.  The kids were excited.  The screaming mother and three children in the seats ahead of us bought microwave pizza from the café, chips, soda, and other junk guaranteed to rot their teeth and keep them going like little energizer bunnies all night.  At any rate, all that junk food was making us hungry.  It was almost 8:00, well after our dinner hour.

When he called for pizza, Mike clarified the station address, made sure they would deliver to the station, and told them we would be there in 20 min.  They said they would deliver it in 20 min.  We were actually there in 10 min.  So there was a 30 min. window to get the delivery.

As the train pulled into St. Louis, we got a perfect view of the Arch that we visited last spring.  The train made a circle and crossed over the Mississippi and all the barges working their way down the muddy river.  At last we pulled into the station.

 So Mike got off the train and begin to wait and watch carefully so as not to miss what has almost become the most important delivery of our life.  The kids and I anxiously watched from the windows.  An older lady on her way to Texas engaged me in conversation as she passed through our car.  We had a nice chat, but as the minutes ticked by, I could see out the window that Mike still hadn’t made a connection with the pizza guy.  I am smiling and talking to this nice lady, but frantically screaming in my mind, “Where the heck is our pizza???? “ I could tell the mother of the 3 screamers was listening to our conversation while we were talking.  Eventually, I even told the older lady my husband was waiting on pizza.  I could see Mike out the window now on the phone again.  Soon the whistle blew, and Mike hopped back on without the pizza.  I can’t express what a bummer this was.  We were absolutely starving.  Mike looked like he was going to punch his fist through the window…….In his younger more frustrating moments he did punch a few holes in some drywall  here and there in anger………Never in our house.  He knew I would kill him…..  And we have plaster.  He isn’t completely stupid.  On a positive note,  it helped him learn how to do drywall....

The kids were practically weeping.  He sat down and explained his conversation with the Domino's guy.  When they didn’t show up, Mike called them again.  They said they were just taking the pizza out of the oven.  Mike said forget it because the train was leaving.  He was sorry that they made the pizza for nothing, but there was no way we could wait for them.  While he was recounting the story to me, his phone rang.  It was the pizza guy.  Strangely the guy was trying to convince Mike that it wasn’t Domino's fault….?????  He said that they don’t deliver to the train station…..??????  He said they had the pizza ready on time…..?????  Strangely, an hour ago he told Mike they did deliver to the train station…?????  Mike was polite and got off the phone as quickly as possible, rolling his eyes, because it was moot now. 

Mrs. Stupid with the 3 screaming kids was smirking and laughing that we didn’t get our pizza. So much for feeling smug about our clever plan.  Harrison and Natalie were practically weeping.  Mike was aggravated, but glad he didn’t give Dominoes our credit card number and opted to pay cash instead.  I was fainting from starvation.  The intercom came on, right on cue, that the café was now closed for the night.  Sadly, not feeling clever and smart anymore, I dug through the remnants of our food bag and pull out the dried fruit and nuts, filled the water bottles, and presented the meager, cold offerings.  We ate it.  We didn’t starve.  While not what we were looking forward too, the biting hunger pains went away.  Mike praised me over and over saying that it was such a good thing that I brought the fruit and nuts even though he hadn’t wanted to tote them along.  Thank you very much.  I will take praise where ever I can get it.  J

We spent another hour listening to the kids in front of us scream, fight, and kick the seats.  Every time they would flip their seats up (every 2 minutes) everything would fall off our trays.  The little one kept standing on the seat and looking over to see what we were doing.  Mike made a peace sign with his two fingers and positioned them just under the seat where the kid kept looking over, like he was going to poke her eyes when she climbed over the seat again.  Harrison and Natalie hooted with laughter. They got it. The bad mood over dinner was broken.  The kid could see me from her seat.  When she started wailing at her brother yet again, I fixed her with my “teacher look” that says "Cut the crap, right now."  She completely stopped screaming in mid scream.  Her mother looked back, but I was reading my book when she looked. 

We had enough for one day.  We went down and used the restroom then attempted to get some shut eye.  The screamers stayed quiet all night, now they knew there was a witchy, teacher lady sitting behind them.  I put in earplugs and my lovely blackout mask.  Mr. Attendant, who doesn't remember major train stops, showed up with pillows to pass out.  I wasn’t sure how clean they were…..but we were crossing over to the desperate side at this point.  For the most part we slept off and on until 7:00 AM.