Ok, ok, I'll recount my real drama. It was a trip of drama. Lots of drama, endless drama. The big drama is at the end, but I have to set the scene.
We were going to my cousins Bar Mitzvah in Colorado Springs, and my intention with my father was to take the Zephyr to Denver and FREX to Colorado Springs, from Trenton, making sure to build in nearly 24 hours padding, just in case, it was me and my dad, my wife (who doesn't love flying, but doesn't hate it like I do, flew on with my mom). We got from Trenton to DC just fine, got into Chicago just fine, ate lunch at Giordano's just fine. Got onto the Zephyr just fine. Got as far as Ottumwa, Iowa, when there was a bridge fire. Instead of bustituting us, they decided to send us back to Chicago. God knows why. We get back to Chicago around 9 AM, and I make a bee line to the ticket counter, where I knew an agent. Got rebooked on that days SWC, for La Junta. Rented a car, from a Hertz agency that was happy to send over the car and let us sign the paper on the hood and drive right off. Train was a few hours late; we walked in as my cousin was completing his reading. At least I got to hear that.
Few days later, my wife leaves with my mom, and we go to Denver to catch the train. As boarding is called, we get a phone call. My parents house had been robbed. I had lost about 20k worth of wrist watches, including an absolutely enormous and very comprehensive collection of First Moscow Watch Factory watches, (which I felt bad about), a $1400 Rolex, which I felt pretty bad about, my grandfathers slightly banged up Seiko, which upset me greatly, and a gold anchor he bought himself in Tiffany's in 1935, which made me feel bereft, frankly. Oh, and a 9 year old fahrkakt Apple PowerBook G4 worth maybe $100, which is the only thing the insurance company covered- with a brand new MacBookPro for $1799. Anyway.
We haven't gotten to the real drama, yet, though.
So, boarding the Zephyr, both my dad and I kinda drank ourselves to sleep- my mother had used this opportunity to remind him how selfish his train travel was, and how he would be there with her if he had only flown, so he was massively upset. I was massively upset because at the time it represented about 35% of my assets, and I suspected it wouldn't be covered, and more so, because much of what I had lost would be difficult or impossible to replace, especially my grandfathers stuff. Money can be replaced, family heirlooms can not.
We woke up that morning with impressive hangovers, to find out we were running pretty late- and I happened to know that at the time, the Capitol Limited which we were booked on was leaving dead on schedule come hell or high water because of work between PGH and WAS. My father was grossly upset about this. I didn't particularly care. Long story short, we missed the CL by about 10 minutes, partially because we were stuck in the hole to wait for the Chief. I went back to my agent friend, who tried her damndest to get us into a sleeper on the LSL, even if only to Albany. No dice. My father was pissed, and I ended up manhandling him away from a lounge employee because he was being abusive. (The employee was not a grand Nordstroms model of customer service, but she was well within the range of acceptable, and didn't deserve it at all.) So off we went in Coach on the LSL, but only after my dad thought long and hard about spending $2500 to rent a minivan and drive home.
Here comes the DRAMA. doo doo do do, its been a long long boring story....
My dad and I ate lunch in the diner with a prick of a waiter who looked exactly like Will Smith and thought that projecting a similarly jerky attitude to some of Smith's characters was a perfectly acceptable thing to do. I disagreed, but I put up with it because life is too short to get ones heckles up over incompetent unionized waitstaff. Since we were in coach, of course, the meal was not included, and naturally, my dad paid for me. I walked my dad back to his seat, and then walked forward to the Boston lounge and get into a conversation with a complete stranger in which we fixed the government, repaired the problems with education, and deconstructed the world in general and rebuilt it in a more pleasing fashion. Then, the waiter appears and introduces himself with, "Yo!"
So I turn to look at him and said, "Hi."
Without preamble, unless you consider the "Yo" a preamble, says "You can't steal from Amtrak." Through my mind the thoughts of several blankets so stolen flashed by (it was more than seven years ago, so ha!). I responded, somewhat befuddled, "Of course not."
He responds, "You stole your lunch."
I said, "No, I didn't."
He said, "You didn't pay for it."
I said, "No, I didn't. My dad did." Remember now, I was in the middle of a conversation with somebody, and this exchange was rather embarrassing.
"Is this your father?" He remarked sarcastically.
"No, he was the bearded man who was setting next to me in the dining car." I replied.
"Where is your father?" he asked, implying that my father was not real with his tone.
I mentioned his coach number and seat number, which I knew then, but do not know now.
He then proceeds to grab my bicep and tug, saying "Come show me your so-called 'father'."
Of course, he saw my so-called 'father' with his so-called 'receipt'. He then said "Oh." No apology, turned towards the diner, and attempted to walk away.
I said, "Excuse me, but I want to talk to your LSA." He looked like he was about to steam his pants. The LSA was nice, but felt that me being publicly humiliated by this jerkweed was covered by a slice of cake, which I refused.
I know some people at Amtrak. More then than now. I don't usually go around exploiting my relationships, or bragging about them, but I do have them- although they have dwindled as I concentrated more on NJ and then largely exited the scene altogether. But I called up one of them, who was pretty high up the chain, and told him the story of Allice's restaurant with the five part harmony... except it did matter. I got a call back a few weeks later. That SA was brought up for cause, and dismissed through process. I was not his first complaint, but I did end up being his last.