With Caterpillar Thrusts

A bit of a dumb afternoon.   I had planned ahead for this afternoon for weeks.  I had tickets on a train heading home from Shanghai to Beijing.   I’ve had complaints that my traffic entries are tedious so I’ll keep it quick to say that I rode out to the station with sufficient time, hit pitiless traffic and still could have made it when we arrived at the station, itself.  Traffic into the last kilometer of the neighboring airport terminal is completely predictable. Swing in, get off.  But with twelve minutes to go, we slid to a halt behind five hundred meters and four lanes of stationary vehicles, burping forward at caterpillar speed, with caterpillar thrusts. 

This was unexpected and I began to properly fret.  I settled the bill, got out as early as I dared and ran towards the daunting security queue.  En route, the zipper on my backpack loosened itself, as happens when you don’t close this one properly, and my computer and everything else spilled to the ground.  Scooping all up, Charlie Chaplain like, it dawned on me that this was the minute I was loosing that would be fatal. 

I maintained decorum as got in line for security.  Mounted the pat down block so eagerly I managed to step on the flip flop of the lady before me, earning a well deserved sneer from her as she regained her balance.  Of course, the gate was at the other end of the station.  I bounded over and with two or three minutes before departure, made it to the gate.  Ah, but the entrance gate was closed and the lady with the walkie-talkie wasn’t giving any ground. 

I toggled between assertive, supplicant, pleading, serious, old-friend-ish, plea for sanity, this is really serious, be a pal, COME ON!  She spoke to her Walkie-Talkie.  The Walkie-Talkie spoke back: negative.  A clueless foreign family and now a Chinese business guy were all piling on.  She became flustered and it was clear, I would not be getting through this gate and on to my train. 

The airport is right next-door.  Ctrip immediately informed me that there were no tickets to Beijing today. Period.   “Um.  I see.”  The ticket lady at the station informed me that there were no rail tickets to Beijing either.  “Right.”  I have a flight to Paris with my family at 2:00AM and one way or another I am getting to Beijing.  Fortunately there are many pilot fish, scalpers floating around the front of the ticket queue.  A guy suggested he could get me on a train and we set off. 

I talked to one rail staff and then another on his recommendation that I look to somehow change my existing ticket.  I noticed there was a train leaving for Beijing in fifteen minutes.  That looked pretty good.  But the pilot fish was counseling for the 3:00PM.  He suggested I walk up to the counter of the earlier train to see about somehow swapping tickets.  I did and she gestured to let me on the train.  This was a fabulous outcome and I headed off without any further concern for the pilot fish.

How I’m sitting on the 2:21.  I’ve been kicked out of three successive seats at three successive stations and am now resigned to the space between the cars.  Soon I will need juice for this device.  But for now, I’m still thankful that I’m moving in the proper direction and that I’ll be home, with time to spare.