Metra

I woke up one morning and thought to myself, I've never ever in my six years in Chicago, taken the Metra, "The way to really fly." Today I decided to pack up my work and head to a coffee shop downtown near Ogilvie Transportation Center. In Chicago we have The "El" the urban subway/elevated train system with loads of convenient stops and longer, cheaper, sometimes more uncomfortable travel experiences. And then we have the Metra, the commuter train catering in every direction to suburbanites, HECK, to Wisconsinites, Hoosiers and "downstate" Illinoisians. Let me tell you, compared to we El riders these Metra commuters ride in style! At the station the guy mopping the floor of the waiting room slash CAFE told me to just buy my ticket on the train. I boarded the big train and was downright giddy to see actual conductors with snappy conductor hats and uniforms. Conductors who jump down out of the cars and assist passengers with watching their step. Conductors who never once came by my seat on the way downtown making my ride %100 free. On the way home, I could buy a ticket at the station and did so feeling certain that otherwise my photo would go up on wanted boards at the post office if it isn't already there right now. These whopping trains are double decker to boot so on the journey home I climbed to the top where I could watch the lower level and the top of the conductor's roving cap, through metal bars on the floor. Just as I began to wonder if the conductor, an older gentleman, would have to climb up the narrow steps to my seat and if I might have been able to get away with a free ride home after all, the conductor stuck his hand up through the bars. I laughed out loud thinking that he was trying to grab my foot or, you know, be funny. I was about to say something terse and pithy about knowing how enviable my shoes are or to play back by dangling my ipod shuffle in front of his face when I noticed that he continued to stand down there, hand through the bars, flexing his fingers, straight faced, counting the seconds of his day that it took me to realize he wanted my ticket. Ah well, sometimes it's good to be reminded that I don't always have the right to roll my eyes at the tourists who stop right in front of me on sidewalks.