20 Hours On The City Of New Orleans
Sitting in the dining car of an Amtrak train, finishing up a hot dinner with a cold beer and a brownie for dessert, I was somewhat surprised to find myself having a good time. The car swayed back and forth gently, like one of those fancy dinner cruise yachts that are big enough to feel stable, but small enough to remind you that the water is still a lot more powerful. A few other passengers dined nearby, but there were a few empty tables and still more people back in their cabins in no particular rush to make it in time for the 9:30pm dinner cutoff. The overwhelming thought going through my head was just how nice the experience was. When I finished eating, I stacked all the refuse onto my plate and nudged it toward the edge of the table, then pulled out a book and sat there reading for a little while. A conductor came by to clear the table and asked if I’d be ready to have my bed set up soon. “I think I can do it myself,” I said. “Well,” he replied, “There’s a bit of a trick to it