Amtrak Station {3:45 a.m. - 4:00 a.m.}

I'm usually running too late to observe much of anything at these stations. Then as soon as I board the train or bus I'm taking, I tend to spread my things out across two seats & pretend to fall asleep right away so that no one tries to sit next to me. So I suppose that means that unless I'm either forced to interact with people or running too late to pay attention to my surroundings, I'm silently judging everyone around me. Awesome. I just reminded myself how terrible of a person I am.

I'm wide awake, orange Crush soda in hand, and acutely aware of two scenarios happening around me. I'll share some of my observations and judgments, but not all of them. You won't like me if you read what I'm really thinking about these weirdos. And more importantly, these weirdos might see what I've written about them once my blog becomes the most popular thing on the internet. They'll be upset and try to avenge me, and it'll just be a mess. So for now - the somewhat nicer version will have to do.

There is an Amish man sitting next to his quietly submissive wife and reading a newspaper. For some reason {probably tv show & movie stereotypes}, I didn't think Amish people read newspapers or watched the news or paid any attention at all to 'culture' ... I thought the whole ideas was to be "not of this world" or something? Well, it was an interesting sight to see. I tried taking a picture with my phone. Here's what I ended up with:

Ok, ok, I'm lying. I didn't even try to take a picture with my phone. I just thought, several minutes after boarding the train, that it would have been a good idea. A neat shot. A nice photo to have. Too late, though. The Amish people already left. Maybe they're on my train now. Maybe they're reading a newspaper again. If so, I promise I'll really try to take a pic. 

Another interesting thing {to me} I saw while at the station was an Asian teenager, or maybe Asian young adult. . . college age? Well, I saw him trying to play a bunch of games without paying. That was strange. 

First he tried to play the racing game for free. He just sat on the racing seat and turned the wheel a bit for a while. Never once motioned towards his wallet and even thought about paying. Just kept fake driving the fake driving machine as if the game would give up and just give him a free round or something in hopes that he'd pay for the second round if he liked the first round enough. Well, it didn't work out that way.

After some time, this kid walks over to that game where you use a claw to try to pick up toys that I don't believe anyone would voluntarily pay 50-cents for. Yet, for some reason, people pay 50-cents ... and then another 50-cents .... and then another to try to win. Strange. I guess it's the fun of the game, not the desire for the prize that inspires participation. Those same kids who love that game as children are the kids who grow up to be -- well, young adults like me -- who justify their crappy lives and failed attempts at success by reminding themselves that it's the journey, not the destination. 

Well, I don't know which school of thought this Asian kid belonged to. But he kept trying the same shenangians from the race car game on this game. Kept trying to play for free. He gave up more quickly on this one. I would have too.

By his third attempt at a third game, I wasn't quite sure how to react. Part of me was impressed by his persistence and sat there silently rooting for him to make the game work for the small cost of will power instead of a few quarters. I thought that if he could successfully pay this game without paying with money, but instead with hard work and sweat -- that'd be a great testament to the Amurican dream and true hope.

Another part of me was pissed that he was trying to cheat the system. An entitled millenial or snotty hipster or something. That part of me hated him and wanted nothing more than for him to get what was coming to him. For some Amtrak station game security guy to come taser him and give him an emotionally-charged speech about pulling yourself up by your footsteps and fairness and stuff.

Yeah, I realize part one and part two of me both reflect sort of contradicting views of American values. Just wait, there's more, the third part of me ... the kind part of me that goes, "awwwww" when I see something cute or heart-warming or sad or whatever. That part of me wanted to give him some change and help him pay for a few minutes of fun game time. 

I'm sure more parts of me {feel free to diagnose me with schizophrenia based on these three 'parts' of myself to which I'm referring and from which I'm deriving feelings} would have manifest themselves if I had stayed at the station longer. But some lady with a muffled voice and terrible grammar announced that we could board the train. 

Ugh, I really wish I had taken a pic of the Amish people. Or that I had tried to strike up a conversation with them. I now realize that I have a lot of questions I'd like to ask an Amish person.