I was so tired that I couldn't keep my eyes open. I twisted myself sideways and extended my legs over the seat next to me. Purse in lap, sweater criss-crossing my front, arms and legs crossed and eyes closing, I was falling victim to a sleep a little too deep for the moment.
I had set two alarms on my phone, to ensure I woke up before the Greenwich train stop. Falling asleep in a public place, a little too close to the train’s restroom and in too short of a dress, wasn’t ideal so waking up shouldn’t be a problem.
Somehow, I managed to remain sleeping with no stranger tapping me awake so that they could sit in the place of my legs. But next thing I knew, I was waking up to Metro North’s monotone female voice announcing that “This is the train to Stamford, up next is Old Greenwich,” and then “Old Greenwich.”
PANIC.
Missed calls and forgotten texts from my dad sat on my phone’s screen. I quickly typed and sent “Hi” to let him know his messages had been finally received as I got up and the train arrived into the wrong station. Calling my dad as I marched off the lit train onto a very un-lit platform, I was hit with warm air.
God I love summer nights.
My slightly woozy self was explaining to my dad how to get to this train station. Having lived in Greenwich twenty years, he still hadn’t memorized the geography of our hometown.
I parked myself on a bench, dress still too short in the back, and got my bearings. Last summer, I had worked in Old Greenwich as a sailing instructor and since I had no car to my name (fortunately this summer is a different story), I would get rides to this train station from co-workers and take my buddy, Metro North, two stops to my home station. My point is, I felt very comfortable at the abandoned looking train tracks, as well as the fact that I was now in Connecticut and not New York. The annoying part about going into The City at night is that you have to catch the last train out otherwise you’re stuck there until the next 5:00 am train.
This wasn’t my first rodeo being at a train station alone at 2:00 am, and this time my dad was coming to pick me up. Usually, I just tell my parents to go to sleep and I’ll take a cab or Uber home from the train. But for some reason, tonight, my dad had his heart set on picking me up- even though I stayed almost too late in The City.
“If you ever need anything, call me,” he would always say to me. The repetitiveness never really sunk in until now.
He was barely mad. At first, though, he drove right past me. I had walked down to the street to make it easier for his arrival but in a flurry (convinced I had been taken (like in the film)) he didn't see his tired daughter standing there. Once in the car, I spoke of my night’s adventure- he wasn’t too happy about me in the subway alone at night, though.
A roughly 2:30 am arrival home and an immediate dip into the sheets and the night was over.
I woke up to the smell of chocolate chip pancakes and my unknowing mother. Filling her and brother in on the previous night’s activities was fun ;).
