On the way home

Trains are definitely more fun than buses. You get to walk around whenever you want, there's plenty of leg room, several restrooms that don't smell too bad (and don't smell up the entire place), and most people are not as scary as bus people.

We got on at the beginning of the line, with about five other people. Apparently mid-August isn't a real busy travel time for Amtrak.

First stop: a fifty-ish man got on, carrying a small cardboard box overflowing with clothes. My second clue that something was slightly amiss was when he started repeating his seat number over and over and giggling loudly about how he'd never been on a trip before. His lady friend (who, unfortunately, was just putting him on the train and not traveling with him) told him to pull up his pants and not to let them fall down in front of other people. He did so, obediently, and sat down. Directly in front of my daughter and her new friends, and diagonally from me. Exit lady friend.

Very soon after starting off again, Jake started talking to as many passengers as would respond to him. I was watching a DVD, so mercifully was excluded from conversation on the grounds that I couldn't hear, what with the earphones and all. He proceeded to call every man in the car by the name of "Jake," and then to explain that that was his own name. Some of the other passengers were very kind to him, which I appreciated.

Next, Jake disappeared to the lounge car and discovered that beer was served there. Big mistake. A couple of cold ones later, he returned to his seat, quite a bit louder and more profane than before. He also proceeded to yell, "Hey, sweetheart!" at me for about twenty minutes, but I couldn't hear that because of the earphones. The funniest part was when his hand reached out into the aisle (that was all I could see--he and I were both sitting by the windows) and started beckoning to me in a very sexy way. I ignored this as well, but had a hard time not cracking up. Finally he stood up and came over to me and asked me if I would come and sit with him. "No," I answered, and returned to my movie. He gave up quietly and started talking to the nicer people in front of him.

Soon after that we were favored with an extraordinarily loud rendition of a Whitesnake number, as well as a barrage of profanity and other mildly creepy and scary comments and actions. He fell asleep, but kept yelling in his sleep, "Somebody get this train back on the tracks, please!" So the kids were starting to get nervous when this old lady hauled off and screamed (and I mean screamed) at him, "Shut up! We're all sick of listening to you and I'm going to call the conductor if you don't shut up!" The cool hiker-type kids in front of her were much nicer about it. They encouraged him to quiet down, and maybe just talk to them instead of singing to the entire train--and also to quit swearing, because there were kids in the car.

Jake stood up to go get another beer, and to my chagrin (and those around me) his pants had fallen all the way down. And I mean all his pants, and all the way. For a moment there was a question as to whether or not he was going to pull them up, but I guess it was getting difficult to walk, so he did. Breath of relief that this was all going on where the girls couldn't see.

Reno. Jake tried to get off the train, thinking it was Salt Lake. Cool hiker types encouraged him to sit back down, promising to let him know when it was time for him to get off. I feel slightly guilty about half hoping that he would get off. On the other hand, I think I would have stopped him if no one else had. Poor guy.

He started up again, and grandma decided screaming wasn't enough, so she added a little profanity, too. Also asked Jake how he had kissed the conductor's butt to let him stay on the train. Not sure this was the most effective method, but to each her own, I guess.

Jake asked if I was mad at him. "Absolutely not," I said, "But you need to keep it down a little and stop swearing in front of the kids, okay? It makes them uncomfortable." He agreed, and went back to the lounge car.

Conductor came back later on to talk to the old woman, who had complained, and she mysteriously turned into this mild, querulous, helpless old woman, who was afraid for her grandchildren and couldn't leave them for a second because they were scared to death of this horrible man. (Note: she seemed okay about leaving them for ten minutes to smoke on the platform whenever we stopped.) When he left, the cool hiker-types turned on her like a pack of wolves. It was awesome.

Cool Hiker Type: You didn't have to make him sound like a pedophile. He isn't hurting anyone.

Grandma (whining): But he's scaring the kids.

CHT: So? He's not doing anything. You could have told him the truth and that would have been enough. You didn't have to lie to the conductor. You lied to him!

Sensing she had no backing from her fellow passengers, Grandma lapsed into silence for the remainder of the trip. Later, her granddaughter told me and Taylor that Grandma was taking medicine because she yells too much. I suggested maybe she needed to have the dosage increased. Just kidding--I only thought that. Granddaughter seemed a little embarrassed by it all.

Conductor talked to Jake, who enthusiastically explained that this was his first trip, and he was having a great time. Conductor expressed that he was very glad Jake was enjoying the trip, but that he needed to quiet down and not bother the other passengers.

Shortly after this, Jake went to get another beer, came back and swore at some more passengers, tried to get off the train again, was restrained very kindly by other passengers (at whom he had just been swearing), and then disappeared. The conductor came back looking for him and said he'd been all through the train and couldn't find him. We hadn't made any stops. I don't know where they found him, but apparently it was somewhere he shouldn't have been, because the police met the train in Winnemucca and took Jake away.

Later, another conductor came and collected Jake's box of clothes and told us they'd be put with his other luggage when we arrived in Salt Lake City. He was nice about it, and said that he was glad Jake was in a safe place now, with people who could take care of him. I think we were all sad and worried about Jake actually having the capacity to make it to Salt Lake, but truth be told, it was a very lovely, quiet night.

And oh, it's good to be home!