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Hell on wheels
BY DAVID JAKIELO

Earlier this month, my friend Lynn and I put our duct tape aside, laughed in the face of terrorism, and took a train to Notre Dame (a university slightly bigger than Duquesne). Yes, trains transport more than coal and livestock. To our chagrin, the terrorists got the last laugh, as we soon came to realize that our train was somehow linked to Hell – home of Satan.

With the nation on a heightened “orange” alert, airport security checks are at an all-time high. At the same time, the government apparently feels it is going to take its chances with trains, as there was no x-raying or frisking involved for this trip. In Amtrak’s defense, I think modeling train rides after Hell is their way of fighting evil, ensuring citizens all over this great country that if terrorism occurs via trains, the evildoers will get a sneak preview into their afterlife.

Two main factors Amtrak covered nicely are the intense heat and the feeling of eternity. The train was a blazing inferno scheduled for an eight-hour trip that turned out to be 12 hours instead. An emphasis was placed on the heat factor when the train slowly came to a stop in the middle of nowhere and we smelled smoke, gasoline, and then, dead fish. How any type of smell converts to the scent of dead fish is one of life’s great questions that hours of staring at the periodic table could not answer.

Seats were designed like your typical, friendly dentist chair, but at one point during the ride, a hospital bed would have been more appropriate. Due to the fact that I had gotten three hours of sleep in the past two days, and considering I was in hell, I continuously drifted in and out of consciousness.

Waking up, I felt dehydrated and realized that Lynn’s Diet Coke was all that could save me. Taking a quick gulp, I immediately felt like I was having a heart attack. Nearing my end, I explained to Lynn how I was quite certain that my organs were failing. I told her I noticed that two priests were on the train and asked if she would be so kind as to have them read me my last rites. Curling up in the fetal position I closed my eyes (possibly for the last time). Lynn, on the other hand, responded by giving me an odd stare and taking a refreshing sip of her Diet Coke.

It is safe to say that the majority of people that ride trains are a unique breed. Then again, I’d expect nothing less in Hell. One man near me left for an extended period of time, to which a lady turned around and said to me, “That one’s been gone for awhile, I keep my eye out on those terrorists.” Another man was in the bathroom for quite awhile and there is reason to believe that he is still in there, dying.

The most interesting character on my journey was a man sitting directly to the right of us, whose traveling companion was a plastic bag that we believe was filled with – no joke – bacon. Lynn remarked, “No person has ever made me feel that uncomfortable.” There are many reasons that justify her statement: His slippers that had holes in the toe, the violent dipping/licking technique he used to eat the remnants of an unidentified dip, the bag of rice puffs he shoveled into his mouth, the four fluorescent toothbrushes he kept pulling out after eating and the ointment he methodically rubbed on his hands and throughout his inner nostrils. These are all reasons to cause a person extreme discomfort.

The kicker may have been that throughout this routine, he was diligently working. What he was working on will be debated for years to come. There was sheet music on the back of his notes, which means he could have been writing a song or maybe he was plotting how to take over the world. Perhaps he was writing a song about taking over the world. Another theory supports the fact that he was sketching a picture of Lynn for future use, once the bathroom became available.

As a result, while there is nothing positive to say regarding the ride, I am happy to report that no lives were lost on the trip and the main lesson learned was that terrorism can take many forms. Accordingly, beware of Diet Coke and men who travel on trains with bags of bacon.