Taking the train back from NYC yesterday, I found myself in the last car, which, incidentally, was six cars down from the cafe. So I pondered, as I arranged myself in the seat, how best to fulfill my mission of getting snockered without having to make three or four trips up and down the length of the train. So I meandered up to the cafe car, where there were probably ten people in line with the same notion as I. I knew from past experience that I could order two drinks, but how to carry them back to my seat without making a mess? What with all the swaying and curving, the walk to the cafe had been difficult enough, even unencumbered by alcohol. Then, the words stood out at me like a beacon of hedonism:
HALF BOTTLES OF WINE.
I got a half bottle of chardonnay (which I hate, but the only other choice was red and I didn’t want to fall asleep) and a Heineken, and by the time I got to Boston I was walking in circles. Gotta love Amtrak!!