Sandy Train Mistake

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I looked up from Eragon and adjusted my hold on the book, taking slight notice of the still-filled TRAX. Usually by this time in the ride, it had emptied out much more than this on the way to Salt Lake Central station. Then I looked outside, to see exactly where I was. What the…? I had absolutely no idea where I was! I looked around and with a sinking feeling realized that I had gotten on the Sandy TRAX rather than the Salt Lake TRAX. You see, we had gotten out of class early enough that I was excited to get home thirty minutes early. I didn’t realize that there were Sandy trains that left directly from the University. I was only aware that you could transfer to Sandy from Gallivan Plaza stop.

Getting off at the next stop, I started to panic. Like I said in my last post, I don’t like doing things by myself and I immediately get super anxious. I had no one there to be lost with, and I didn’t know how to get anywhere on TRAX, only to and from school! AND I COULDN’T ACCESS THE INTERNET PEOPLE! I looked over the schedule and waited for the next train headed the other way, silently thankful that it was daylight and there were a few other people waiting with me in the middle of the run-down neighborhood. The next TRAX came a few minutes later, with UNIVERSITY labeled on the front. Well, I guess that’s my train. I got on, trying to settle the panicky feeling that happens when I’m not sure what my next move is.

Getting off in front of the Salt Lake Library, I felt better about the whole thing when I recognized someone getting off who was in my Jazz class. From the looks of it, he’d gotten on the wrong train, too! I waited by the traffic-jammed road across from Burger King, where I had once seen someone walk into a fire hydrant from the TRAX windows, and not wanting to laugh out loud, suppressed my laughter until I heard the guy behind me burst out laughing. Today Burger King’s show was a tall, white guy sitting by the curb, shouting profanities randomly into the street. At least, that’s what I thought until I saw the ear buds. Oh, he’s actually singing profanities!

It’s always nice when people offer you seats, or guys show chivalry. When the TRAX finally arrived heading to Salt Lake Central station, I was upset because I had missed the Front Runner that would have taken me home a half hour early. When the man next to me gestured that I get on the TRAX before him, my mood improved slightly, happy to see another kind deed by a stranger. My mood only improved when the cart was completely full and a homeless-looking man sat next to a blonde, well-groomed college student. 

“Hi!” he said happily.

She looked less than happy, and from the familiar, tightly controlled look of her face that I have seen on many other people, I knew that she was very weirded out and that the man smelled bad. Then he started laughing and singing a song. “Sometimes I feel like I’m a stranger in the neighborhood…” The girl’s eyebrows shot up so high that I thought they were going to disappear in her hair. Her eyes frantically looked at the people around her, as if begging them to switch her places or to at least confirm that he was really singing. I wanted her to be more polite about it, though. Like sing along with him or something! My bad mood was gone completely as I listened to the man happily sing his song to us. When we reached Salt Lake Central (at last), I asked the girl how she like his singing, and she just laughed and said, “I’m so glad to be out of there, he smelled so bad! Like I’m worried I smell like crap now.” I could smell him from where I was sitting two rows back, so I don’t blame her. 

So, two eventful days in a row. Full of strangers and strange people.

But then again, maybe I’m the strange one.