“This is absurd” the boy said in passing, wearing an American flag bandana and a Wu-tang shirt.
The NJ Transit is my version of a nightmare. A vivid, reoccurring nightmare that spirals into dimensions of hellacious suffering. Hyperbole, I know. But warranted? Absolutely.
At least 100 people are strewn about the lobby in New York Penn. Some in pairs, some in groups, or some like me, alone. As a native Long Islander, I thought the LIRR was really the extent of truly mediocre public transport. If the LIRR is garbage, the NJ Transit is garbage on fire.
It is closing on 2 am and the passengers have gave up on looking at the monitors to see if there are any changes. My train was supposed to depart about an hour and a half ago.
In this instance of endless delay, it is easy to question one’s decisions. “What if I hadn’t stopped for that ice cream, and caught the earlier train?” “What if I had taken the bus?”
The floor is sticky, but my butt has no choice. The low heels I had once admired for their comfort, have now worn thin and my feet are not having it. “New Jersey Transit, sucks!” is a mantra a homeless man keeps repeating. I agree.
I check my phone again. It’s 2:13 in the morning. My battery is at 21 percent. I sigh again.
An automated announcement comes on. There’s been one at least every 15 minutes but this one is different, saying something to the effect of ‘All NJ Transit trains will be suspended indefinitely…’ I feel a whooshing in my ears. Did I hear that right? My head swings to the monitor and sure enough, the last 10 trains of the night are labeled CANCELED.
At once, I feel my stomach curl violently.
One question keeps circling in my head: How will I get back? How will I get back? I look around, and everyone seems to be thinking the same thing. I look at my phone again and open Uber. Entering my pick up, and drop off address swiftly I wait for the estimated charge amount.
$70.00 from NY to South Orange. Nuts! I close out of Uber, open the Lyft app, and do the same thing:
$65.00 from NY to South Orange. Double Nuts!
Closing my eyes, I feel a swell of rage and misery. There is nothing worse than spending money that you don’t have. But as I do a quick battery check, my phone has dwindled to 14 percent. I have to make a move before my phone dies. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
Fine, I say to myself. I tap ‘Confirm Ride’ in the Lyft app, and wait about 5 minutes for my driver.
His name is Jhavid. He’s irritated that I wasn’t in the exact spot that was listed on the app. I tell him, my night has been a disaster, and I don’t want to hear it.
40 minutes later, I arrive at my destination. Jhavid had let me borrow his charger. I gave him 5 stars.
When I finally lay my head to rest at around 3 am, I steeled myself to never ride on a NJ train again. It was only when I had just started to drift off into sleep, when I remembered I needed to take it for work the next day.