I recently related a story about a politician on a train, judiciously leaving off the pol’s name and affiliation. (Some of you still jumped in with your own politics, though…) The following story, while having no politician, also takes place on a train, and has the additional advantage – or possibly DISadvantage – of being absolutely true:
My wife and I once bought a chance on The Amtrak. (This was back in the 70s when it truly was a game of chance.) We boarded the train in Seattle, then we stopped in Tacoma, Chehalis…
However, south of Chehalis, the train came to a rather abrupt halt. We weren’t at a station; just out in an open field – not even a roadway in view. I saw the conductor coming up the aisle, so I asked him why we had stopped.
“We hit a cow,” he replied.
The woman across the aisle from us said, “Oh, dear – was it on the tracks?”
I recently related a story about a politician on a train, judiciously leaving off the pol’s name and affiliation. (Some of you still jumped in with your own politics, though…) The following story, while having no politician, also takes place on a train, and has the additional advantage – or possibly DISadvantage – of being absolutely true:
My wife and I once bought a chance on The Amtrak. (This was back in the 70s when it truly was a game of chance.) We boarded the train in Seattle, then we stopped in Tacoma, Chehalis…
However, south of Chehalis, the train came to a rather abrupt halt. We weren’t at a station; just out in an open field – not even a roadway in view. I saw the conductor coming up the aisle, so I asked him why we had stopped.
“We hit a cow,” he replied.
The woman across the aisle from us said, “Oh, dear – was it on the tracks?”