SECTION 10
Smoke smoke smoke that cigarette
Puff puff puff, and if you puff yourself to death
Tell Saint Peter at the Golden Gate
That you just hate to make him wait
But you just gotta have another cigarette
Departed Bakersfield about 4:20, after standing on the platform smoking (again). Only about 110 degrees, and I found just about the only shade. Talked with a couple guys from the L.A. area, one of whom actually admitted to being an MTA bus driver. Told him "Don't say that too loud around here." HAHA!!
As we raced north, and it was getting toward dinnertime, it began to dawn on me that I had no diner reservation. Out on the platform stoking my habit I had missed the announcement that dinner reservations would be taken. Unlike Pacific Surfliner cars, Superliners have no externally mounted speakers for announcements.
So I left the camera battery still charging and walked back to the diner to try to get a dinner reservation. No dice. Main guy told me the only thing left was "last call." Replied, "That's okay, I just want the burger." "No burger." This came as something of a shock, so I grabbed a menu off a table, and the guy was right: no burger. Fish dish, steak, veggie option (lasagna), and chicken. Unhappy. I wanted a burger, and was afraid that last call would result in the diner being out of the chicken, which was my second choice. Then the guy offered another option: Food service in my roomette at any time, if I gave my attendant decent notice. Since I had begun jonesing for chicken I returned to my roomette and sought out rookie attendant Lindsay.
Now ladies and gentleman, boys and girls, I had never had food service in a sleeper before, and truth to tell the option made me pretty uncomfortable. Being served in a restaurant is one thing, but to ask somebody whooz already pretty busy to go fetch your food from the dining car? Kind of goes against my generally egalitarian grain. Don't like the feeling that somebody is waiting on me. Repulsive.
Returning to the roomette I sought out rookie attendant Lindsay and had a long conversation. I think it took her about 20 minutes to fully convince me that she didn't mind at all. I wasn't being one of the griper passengers. Just didn't feel right about it, and still don't. Lindsay took my order, the chicken, and asked when I would like to eat. Said about 6:30.
The fellow smokers I'd been yapping with at Bakersfield had a roomette on the lower level of my car, so went down to chew the fat with them. Main event was over, so more time for talking. One of them was the aforementioned bus driver, but I decided not hassle him about it. EDIT: Bore more than a passing resemblance to Jackie Gleason's Ralph Kramden, and his pal looked suspiciously like Art Carney's Ed Norton. Forgot to ask if he was a sewer worker.
By the time rookie attendant Lindsay arrived with the food I was back in the roomette, laptop cranked up and editing photos. She was kinda surprised. "I'm glad you're here!" "Where else would I be?" "You've been all over the train all day." Which was true.
The food was largely terrible, and that's almost all I'll say about it. When Lindsay asked how my dinner had been, "The silverware worked very well." She almost fell down laughing, and said she brings her own food along.
NEXT: Ordeal At Stockton