The Little Engine That Could Not

Last Friday, a friend in Washington, D.C. was throwing a birthday party (Happy Birthday, if *you* are reading this!) so I decided to go up and attend. It's a long time since I've seen him and the group of friends who planned on being there.

Since I was way too tired and sick to drive, I thought I'd take the train. I bought a ticket and went to the train station.

It turned out that the train was five hours behind schedule, so Amtrak decided to throw us on a bus. There were two stops before DC: Culpeper and Manassas. Fine. Only one problem: the driver was an idiot. He had never driven to Culpeper and Manassas. He claimed to have "googled the directions" (yeah, that is *so* reliable) which took us in circles on the way to Culpeper. We tried and tried to give him directions, but he was cocky and refused to listen. On the way to Manassas there was an accident, so we had to stop for at least thirty minutes until the cops cleared it. We aimlessly wandered forever until we somehow stumbled into DC.

The trip lasted six excruciating hours. I missed the party altogether, and the chance to have caught up with my friends. Many of the passengers demanded their money back when we arrived at Union Station. I was too tired to care so I just left.

That is the last time I will EVER take the train to DC.