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May. 17th, 2024 04:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
scrottieComing in to the Albany Amtrak station always is always a slap in the face to remind me I'm in New York and I don't fucking understand New Yorkers. A few years ago, Amtrak started doing bicycle roll-on service on their long haul routes and stopped doing the bike-box thing. Part of the bicycle roll-on thing is you get a baggage ticket for it at baggage claim, but take it yourself to the baggage car and hand it to them, then pick it up again at your destination. I did exactly that between Antioch and Chicago and I've done it several times previously. So I get in to Albany and no one is at the baggage car. I wait a few minutes. The one other time that happened, I found a conductor, he made a radio call, and someone met me there. So I found a conductor and explained that I checked a bicycle and need to pick it up from the baggage car per my orders in Chicago. He informs me it'll be at baggage claim in 20 minutes. I ask, "even bicycles?". He turns around and starts talking to someone, apparently ignoring that. I haul all my bike bags, which are much easier to move around on a bicycle, up the two stories of stairs, across the skyway, across the station, down the elevator to baggage check, and there's no one else there either, but there's a sign telling you to go to the ticket desk in the lobby. I go there and start to explain the situation. He makes some radio calls. Baggage assistance shows up and goes down to the baggage car with me, opens it, takes my tag, and hands me my bike. If the train didn't have a layover in Albany, I'd have been screwed.
Leaving the station with the bike, I go outside and spend a few minutes getting situated then decide that I should use the bathroom before I go. I wheel back in and wheel the bike in to the bathroom and wedge it between the wall and the sink, all four panniers on it, do my business, wash my hands, and start wheeling the bicycle out. A woman comes in the doors from outside, sees me (the bathrooms are down a hall right off the main entrance), and charges straight toward me, blocking either of us from going anywhere -- trying to get in to the men's restroom. If you're having deja vu at this, trust me, so did I. funny deja vu where I -- an almost identical thing happening last time I came in to town but trying to exit through the main doors instead of the mens restroom, but the bike was folded and in a bag and I was carrying this whole mess. After a moment, she realizes what she's done, and turns around and goes the other way.
New Yorkers move way faster than their brains do, a story in two parts.
Addendum: the baggage car was not locked, just latched. If this happens again, I'm stealing my bike from the baggage car.
Leaving the station with the bike, I go outside and spend a few minutes getting situated then decide that I should use the bathroom before I go. I wheel back in and wheel the bike in to the bathroom and wedge it between the wall and the sink, all four panniers on it, do my business, wash my hands, and start wheeling the bicycle out. A woman comes in the doors from outside, sees me (the bathrooms are down a hall right off the main entrance), and charges straight toward me, blocking either of us from going anywhere -- trying to get in to the men's restroom. If you're having deja vu at this, trust me, so did I. funny deja vu where I -- an almost identical thing happening last time I came in to town but trying to exit through the main doors instead of the mens restroom, but the bike was folded and in a bag and I was carrying this whole mess. After a moment, she realizes what she's done, and turns around and goes the other way.
New Yorkers move way faster than their brains do, a story in two parts.
Addendum: the baggage car was not locked, just latched. If this happens again, I'm stealing my bike from the baggage car.
