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From: "Keith F. Lynch" <kfl@KeithLynch.net>
Newsgroups: rec.arts.sf.fandom
Subject: Re: Independence Day
Date: Wed, 24 Jul 2024 03:19:51 -0000 (UTC)
Organization: United Individualist
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Keith F. Lynch <kfl@KeithLynch.net> wrote:
> Again, I just hope they will allow me to board at the "wrong"
> Buffalo station, rather than the one the Amtrak website defaulted me
> to without mentioning that there was another one that was actually
> *in* the city rather than in an outer suburb.

I left the con hotel on foot for the Exchange Street Station at 7:30
on Monday morning, arriving there at 7:50.  A woman who was mopping
the floor immediately asked me why I was there.  She turned out to be
the station attendant, and the only person present.  When I told her
I was catching the train to New York, she said I was extremely early.
When I showed her my ticket, she pointed out that it says I would
board at the Depew Station.  I said I knew that, but that I thought
I'd be allowed to board here instead.  One of the employees when I got
off the train there on Thursday told me I would.

She then said that it wasn't a matter of permissions, but because
that train doesn't pass though that station.  The train I had taken
there continued on to Toronto, but the train I was hoping to catch to
return was coming from Chicago, and doesn't pass through that station.
There would be no train to New York through that station until that
afternoon, and I didn't have a ticket for that one, and of course I'd
miss my connections.

She said there's no way to get to Depew by public transit in time.
She suggested I call an Uber.  I asked her to do so for me.  She said
I needed to do it from my own cell phone.  She offered to call a taxi
for me.  I agreed, and she did so.

While I was waiting outside for the taxi, a woman approached me and
asked if this was where she could catch the Flixbus, which I knew to
be another intercity bus line.  I said I didn't know, but suspected
she needed to catch it at the bus terminal.  (Coincidentally, I had
walked a different woman from the con to the bus terminal the previous
day, to catch a CoachUSA bus.)  But I suggested she ask the station
attendant.  She did so, and came out and said I was right, and started
rapidly walking in the correct direction.

The taxi arrived and got me to Depew with five minutes to spare.
It cost $50 including tip.

The train arrived at Penn Station at 6:45, having taken nearly ten
hours for a trip that never left the state of New York.  Since it was
still daylight and I had plenty of time before my next train, I walked
to Times Square.  On the way, I noticed a Macy's.  I checked what
street it's on.  Sure enough it was on 34th Street, just like in the
77 year old movie.  I went inside and looked around, but it didn't
seem to sell anything but clothing.

Times Square felt like I had walked into a website without using an
ad blocker.  I was able to confirm that it's a myth that that narrow
building with all the advertising screens is otherwise empty.  I don't
know what may be upstairs, but the ground floor has an Olive Garden
restaurant.

There were lots of people there taking lots of photos.  At first I
tried to stay out of their photos, until I realized that showing how
crowded it was was the whole *point* of those photos.  I wore my mask,
which I seldom still do outdoors.

I got back to Penn Station before dark.  It couldn't have been more
different from the Exchange Street station.  It filled at least two
large city blocks, and is several levels tall, with Madison Square
Garden on top.  There appears to be just one drinking fountain in
the whole place, but there was surprisingly no line for it.  I guess
nobody but me still drinks tap water.  Like DC's Union Station, there
were lots of stores in it, and the layout is non-intuitive.  It would
make a good backdrop for a video game.

As with countless con hotels and convention centers, Fairfax Hospital
(where I visited my mother and Marilee Layman, sometimes on the same
visit), and Toronto's PATH, I quickly learned my way around.  Perhaps
I was a rat in a previous life.  I bought the day's New York Times
for $4.

The next train I took went to Philadelphia, where everyone continuing
south had to transfer to a bus.  The ticket had indeed said that.
What it didn't say was that it would be impossible to either read or
sleep on the bus.  The driver told us that the bathroom light was out
and we should use our cell phones to light our way.  I of course don't
have a cell phone.  I correctly figured I could hold out for long
enough.  Especially since there was also a strong unpleasant chemical
odor in the back of the bus, presumably from the bathroom.

The bus pulled into DC's Union Station at 3:30 am Monday, as
scheduled.  Surprisingly, it didn't enter the bus bay at the top
of the station, but just dropped everyone off by the front door.
I and at least a dozen other people approached the guard by the only
unlocked door.  He asked to see my ticket.  I showed it to him.  He
said it didn't count, since my trip was over.  I told him that my trip
continued with a ride on Metrorail.  He said that nobody could enter
unless they had a ticket for an Amtrak train that leaves within two
hours.  I told him I urgently needed to use the toilet.  He told me I
could urinate against the building.  I told him I needed to do more
than that.  He said it wasn't his problem.

Fortunately, I am very familiar with the layout of that station.  I
walked up the bus ramp, which was out of the guard's field of view.
That put me in the intercity bus station at the top of Union Station.
Several passengers were waiting for buses there.  I tried to use
the bathroom, but it was locked.  A guard kept me from entering the
station proper until I told him that I urgently needed to use a toilet
and that one in the bus area was locked.  So he let me in.  I promptly
went to the nearest toilet, then to a drinking fountain, then to the
well-lit waiting area.  As I remembered, a sign said it was only
for ticketed Amtrak, MARC, and VRE passengers, and that there was a
two-hour limit.  That was why I was willing to accept a bus that would
get me there at 3:30 am -- because I know Metro starts running at 5:15
am, less than two hours later.  (MARC and VRE are regional "commuter"
rail lines.  Amtrak is nationwide in the US.)

So I sat there and read the New York Times like a civilized human
being.  There were maybe a dozen passengers there, and they were
spread out enough that I didn't bother to wear my mask.  (I wore it
on every bus and train, and wherever it was crowded, except at the
con where I didn't wear it at all.)

There were guards there, but they only asked one person for his
ticket, and that was because he was sleeping.  Or maybe because he was
Sleeping While Black.  He had a ticket, so they reluctantly left him
alone.  I then told him (the passenger, not the guard) how I had been
treated and how I had to sneak in.  He suggested I write to Eleanor
Holmes Norton.  I recognized that as the name of DC's non-voting
congressional representative, so I told him I'm not a DC resident.
He suggested I write to her anyway.  He told me she was his aunt.

As an aside, my ticket, for which I asked for and received the
senior rate, said I have to show a current government-issued ID.
Fortunately, nobody anywhere on my trip demanded that.  Not in the
stations, not in the trains, not when registering for the con, not
when registering for a (shared) room at the con hotel.  When the hotel
person asked to see it, I showed her my con badge.  She asked if I had
anything else.  I told her I would show her my Medicare card, but only
if she agreed to give me a senior discount.  She just laughed, and
gave me the room key.  (I did have ID, but it's long expired.  But my
birthday hasn't changed since it was issued.)

I got home at 6:35 am by Metro followed by a half-hour walk on the new
I-66 parallel trail, which I had to myself.  That was early enough
that I didn't need to wear my hat.  I then stripped, showered, shaved,
and slept.

As an aside, the reason Union Station had that name has nothing to do
with the winning side of the Civil War or with the labor movement.
It's because it's a place for multiple railroads, and later also
multiple bus routes, to meet, and for passengers of all of them to
be treated equally.

Any suggestions who I should complain to about the door guard not
letting me in, and what I should ask them for?  Or does anyone think
I was treated reasonably?  Thanks.
-- 
Keith F. Lynch - http://keithlynch.net/
Please see http://keithlynch.net/email.html before emailing me.