G. Francis: Um, That Was My Stop

Ever zone out while driving and miss an exit? Embarrassing, right? It’s bad enough if it’s just your wife and kids in the car, imagine what it might feel like if you were driving, say, several hundred commuters on their way home. If you’re really curious, the conductor of a recent train to Harrison might be able to explain the sensation.

It was apparent that something was amiss as the train rolled into the Mamaroneck station…and kept rolling. As I watched my familiar platform whiz by, I had a thought that I’m sure many of my fellow commuters shared: “Boy, somebody just screwed up, and I really hope it wasn’t me.”

About a minute or so past the platform the train began to slow. Over the garbled P.A. system I heard someone ask “You OK up there Mike?” followed by a sheepish “Yeah.” The train came to a stop and began a slow ride of shame back to Mamaroneck.

As we pulled into the station (again) someone on the P.A. made a joke about wanting to see how nervous they could make us. It wasn’t that funny but we all smiled anyway.

Somebody had screwed up, but it wasn’t us.

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This entry was posted in Harrison, Mamaroneck, mishaps, missed stop. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to G. Francis: Um, That Was My Stop

  1. Dan Caputi says:

    About 6 years ago, I headed to Brooklyn from my apartment in Queens to go out for Indian food in Brooklyn Heights. It had taken us forever to figure out what to do for dinner and by the time we hopped on the M train (first and only time I’ve been on the M train) we eventually made it to the stop at which we needed to get off. The train stopped, the conductor announced the station, and then, a few seconds later, warned us to stand clear of the closing doors. Only problem was the doors never opened. That was a pretty helpless feeling made more annoying by the massive void in my stomach. The train then resumed its merry journey to Manhattan Instead of reversing the train back to the station and letting us out, we had to ride to Manhattan, switch trains, and go back to Brooklyn. Only time in my 20+ years of riding the NYC subway that has happened to me. Somebody screwed up and it wasn’t me.

  2. Pingback: Noah Got Nothing On Us « Trainjotting

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