An otherwise normal trip home on the 6:10 slowed to a crawl just before Scarsdale. After several minutes of putt-putting along, we got the dreaded announcement: “Ladies and gentlemen, there’s a stalled train on the track between Hartsdale and White Plains, so we’re limited to one track in both directions.”
While seeing the white Rolls Royce parked in Scarsdale was kind of cool, the slow crawl home was the very last thing I wanted to deal with following a work day that was so busy that, after some change fell through a hole in my pocket, a penny lodged inside my shoe, and it took me nearly an hour to find the time to fish it out. (True story, actually.)
This got me thinking. While tonight’s misadventures were exceptional–we ended up pulling into Hawthorne in an hour and four minutes, fully 22 minutes late–the Westchester-bound train is never, ever on time. I mean, I can think of 2-3 times since I started riding in the fall that it’s been on time. In the rare (but oh so pleasant) instance that I get a ride home from the Missus, I add two minutes to my arrival time (a practice the MTA calls “schedule padding”) so she’s not waiting long at the lot, and we’re still late more often than not. Heck, even the city-bound train, which has to navigate all sorts of track traffic to enter Grand Central, clocks in early every now and then (three minutes early this morning, in fact).
So here it is: When will be the next time my return train on the Harlem Line gets in on time–on time defined as up to 59 seconds past the scheduled minute (as in, the train due in at 6:52 is on time as long as it arrives before 6:53)?
Dear readers, shake off your March Madness pool woes and enter our humble pool. Send the exact date the return train gets in on time to firstname.lastname@example.org, and I’ll start keeping track. The winner will get a handsome prize to be determined.