On the Train to Trenton

On the Train to Trenton, Mel took over.

I think Jenny slightly skews events and dialogue. While all these events happened, she retells it in such a manner that she looks better. Like just now, when we were lost in Center City Wednesday night, Jenny said, “When Mel took that turn I know it was the wrong direction.” Sure she did. I was lost in Center City, Philadelphia. The one exit to I-95 I knew of was closed and would have liked some help. – Mel

I would like to add to the above diatribe that I did my due part. I handed her the map. Now I do wonder why I handed her my journal. “Come on, enough about the airplane… I want to read about us!” Fine then. Mel Mel Mel Clare Clare Clare Mel Mel Clare Clare Mel Clare… Is that enough?

She documented every detail about the airplane, but blithely glides over our adventures. - Mel
Well, when one is alone, and has no one to talk to , it is easy to write four pages about airplanes.
We’re currently discussing holidays. The Bahamas or someplace else to sit for a week and do nothing. Clare has just been nominated and elected as President of Next Year’s Vacation.
This morning I woke up around 8:30 freezing my toes off. So I went into the bathroom and took a shower, figuring my buddies would at least be moving when I got out. Took my time, but nope. Just ZZZZZZZ… so I dragged a chair over to the bathroom light and read oh, about a hundred pages of Just a Geek before I decided to blow dry my hair before it completely fixed itself into Unbrushed Mess. The hairdryer did the trick… at least on waking Mel.

At about 11:15 we dropped off our keys and luggage and took a tube to Battery Park. It was a nice little walk with views of the Statue of Liberty and the harbor. We decided to skip the ferry rides on account of my stomach. Mel and Clare then placated themselves with handbag purchases. Clare bought a coolio New York Yankees hat and tehn we stopped for a picture at the World Trade Center Sculpture before heading back to the tube. I won’t mention the pictures I took of Mel and Clare pole dancing in the subway car. Their idea… not mine.

Pole dancing is hard work. Clare and I think we hurt ourselves. - Mel

They’re complaining again. I figure I might skip over to returning our luggage. I got into the correct elevator, while Mel and Clare insisted on getting into the wrong one. Instead of argueing, I said, “I’ll meet you down there,” and pushed the button. As I was waiting for them to switch elevators and join me, a horde of very enthusiastic people poured out of the seminar room and filled the elevator lobby. After Clare and Mel made their way through the throng, Clare parting the way like Moses through the red sea, we collected our luggage where the guy told us the crowd was a group buying into a pyramid scheme. Really, I hope I can be that happy when someone takes my money. They were shouting and clapping and acting like one big friendly mob with name tags.

We stopped in the train station for some goodies and then waited for them to announce the train. I think we’re almost to Princeton now and our seating arrangement is much more comfortable. Next stop is Hamil - ton… according, according to the announcer. At least we could understand him. Most of them just sound like jibberish.