The Big Boss is in town, which meant I was climbing aboard the dreaded 7 a.m. train out of Hummerville this morning, my family nestled snug in their warm beds, for an all-day strategy session.
I didn’t think I’d ever taken the 7 a.m. before. It was still dark out as I got my bike from the garage, and there was the sound of odd birds in the trees that apparently clear out on my more typical days when I’m heading out over an hour later.
But as I scroll through past Trainjotting entries, I see I did the 7 a.m.’er the last time the Big Boss called us all together to brainstorm ways to “drive revenue” and “grow the business.” That was August, and it wasn’t dark at 6:50.
At the time, I wrote:
I was a stranger in a strange land at the station I’ve called home for almost two years. I stepped onto that platform amidst dozens of peculiar faces, then eased onto the completely foreign 7 a.m. train, which was surprisingly packed. I felt like I was 21 again, stepping onto some Eurail express chugging to Amsterdam and packed with unsmiling Turks.
My ride was quiet, unlike ConnecticEnergy’s as we compared notes from our atypically early a.m. commutes during a break from driving revenue, growing the business, and other things you do at a strategy session. Connectic was on the 7:27 out of Stamford (or Stam-FOORRDD, as the Grand Central public address guy LOVES to say), and everyone was either engaged in, or seeking, a little shut-eye.
Well, someone’s cellphone kept going off–one of those ring tones that’s made to sound like an ancient rotary phone. No one silenced the ring, and no one on the 7:27 could tell where it was coming from. And the caller kept calling, driving his fellow riders absolutely…freakin’…mad.
The ringing–and lack of response–became so irritating that one man jumped to his feet, swiveled his head about in search of the offending cellphone holder, raised his hands, and then froze in place–unsure of what his next move might be. Instinctively, his fellow riders checked their phones for the second and third time, and offered a sheepish shrug to take themselves off the suspect list.
On it went, until the train pulled into the tunnel.