Last week, I headed to the train station for the commute home only to discover that my train was delayed. Naively assuming that this meant a 20-minute wait, I settled onto a bench in the seating area and opened a book that I was only going to pretend to read. Fast forward 20 minutes and my train is nowhere in sight. Then the dreaded message flashes on the board: 2 hours and 45 minutes delayed. Stranded. Completely alone. Limited phone battery left. What was I supposed to do for this long? With no other form of entertainment (except shameless people-watching), I hunkered down in my seat—prime real estate right next to the trashcan!—to do some actual reading. Little did I know how thrilling my day would become. The daredevil within me was just waiting to emerge! A few pages into my book and I was interrupted by a voice.
NICE LADY: What are you reading?
Almost immediately, the voice of my fourth grade teacher echoes in my mind.
TEACHER: Don’t talk to strangers!
I was more alarmed by this vivid flashback than I was by the nice, grandmotherly woman sitting next to me. Maybe when I was 10, such advice was necessary. But now I am an adult and I am traveling alone and I am already bored out of my mind. Feeling defiant, I tilt the book cover towards the nice lady so that she can read the title, and I launch into a description of the class for which this book is assigned.
TEACHER (in my head): It’s not too late! Just walk away!
Dear teacher, thank you for teaching me my times tables, but I think I’ve got this.
This nice lady’s one question turns into a full blown conversation. I am reading about science. She is a scientist. We clearly have a lot in common, besides just being stuck in the same train station. I think this could be the start of a beautiful friendship.
Fast forward an hour. My train has now been delayed even further, and I really, really have to pee. The nice lady had asked me to watch her stuff earlier (should I have said no??) and I was not mentally prepared to drag my suitcase into the tiny bathroom stall again.
To complicate matters, nice lady’s delayed train is supposed to arrive soon. Which means that I have to ask her soon or lose this opportunity forever. As I ponder my options, I hear another familiar voice.
MOM: Remember, you should always keep your luggage with you when you travel. Don’t ever leave it with a stranger. How do you know that you can trust them?
DEVIL’S ADVOCATE: Yeah, but how do you know that you can’t trust them? You watched her stuff earlier. She has not done anything shady in these past few hours of companionship. Your bladder is ready to explode. Just do it.
And I do it. I leave my bags with her and go to pee, basking in the gloriousness of not having to wrestle a suitcase into the stall. It has been a long time since I’ve had such a satisfying peeing experience. And when I went back, my stuff was still there! I think this proves that, while Mother usually knows best, I should just always live on the edge because clearly it will always turn out 100% a-okay!
DEVIL’S ADVOCATE: You’re welcome.
Nice lady caught her train, and my own train finally arrives. Four. Hours. Late. Not that I minded, or anything. Once on the train, I take my seat and pull out a magazine. With no headphones on, I must look like a bright-eyed, approachable youngster, because the lady sitting next to me (a new lady!) offers me a piece of candy. I inspect the candy: a foil-wrapped chocolate egg.
EVERYONE EVER: Whatever you do, don’t take candy from a stranger. Haven’t you ever watched Chitty Chitty Bang Bang?
Whatever, everyone. It’s been a long day and I want chocolate. And we are on a train, with no sketchy vans in sight, so I think I’m okay. Plus, this layer of foil gives me a sense of security, so I’m going to take the candy and eat it.
EVERYONE EVER: Don’t say we didn’t (say we didn’t) warn you!
The chocolate tastes normal. I see this as a positive sign. Train lady tells me that the chocolate was a gift from her granddaughter, who thought that she should have some candy for her trip home. Such a nice granddaughter. And I am sitting next to her grandmother, who is obviously nice by extension and hopefully did not just poison me. (Update: she didn’t!)
So, to the voices in my head: I’d like to thank you for your concern, but I do not regret ignoring you that day. These strangers were the best part of my long day of traveling (aside from finding a Dunkin’ Donuts in the train station #blessed). That’s not to say you aren’t usually right. Strangers are not always nice, and it’s important to proceed with caution. But when the stranger in question reminds me of a long lost great-aunt, I’m probably going to talk to her. As the devil’s advocate said: how do I know that I can’t trust her? Only one way to find out!
