104:148) Eric A. Hochman Date: 13-APR-94 2:04 This all happened last night, but I didn't get around to writing about it until now, for reasons that you'll soon learn. It was the end of a pleasant evening at the Art Bar, and in my state of slight inebriation, I started thinking that I might get home without seeing a yellow train. There were two reasons for this rash conclusion: While at the Art Bar, Mimi Stahl told me a story about being delayed by a yellow train at 34th St. The 1/2/3/9 station at 34th is designed particularly stupidly: The local in each direction is on a separate platform, while the up and downtown expresses share the center platform. This means if you're waiting for the express, and a local comes in, you can't decide to take it, because if you can get to the other platform that quickly, you'd be running the 100 yard dash in the Olympics, not waiting for some stupid 3 train. The station is perfect for yellow train drivers to play a nasty trick on anyone waiting for the express - the yellow train parks on the express track, and the express is sent down the local tracks, BUT THEY DON'T TELL ANYONE. Everyone stands around looking at the yellow train, wondering what it is and when it'll move. Meanwhile, without warning, an express comes in on the local track. Everyone can see it, so they all take off and run down and up the stairs to the other platform, and get there just in time for the express to close its doors in everyone's face and roll out. Once everyone's off the express platform, the yellow train slowly heads out, and the express starts running on its normal track; BUT THEY DON'T TELL ANYONE - remember, everyone's waiting on the local track now. The express comes in, everyone runs back to the express platform, and once again they get there just in time to miss it. A few minutes later, once the driver is sure all the people from the last batch of victims are gone, the yellow train comes back and the whole thing starts over again. So I thought the yellow trains were busy doing that, and besides, after the weekend where they shut down the whole line, I thought maybe the yellow trains had finished whatever it is they exist to do, and gone back to their secret hiding place. Hi Janet! Was I silly to think that? So I caught the train at 14th - it was actually sitting there waiting for me, and just when I was thinking things would be normal, we passed a yellow train, right outside of Chambers Street. It was a small and unimpressive one, though I did take a second look at the car with a 7-foot high pile of wood on it. But then we pulled into Chambers St., and that's where things got weird. Six Transit Authority workers got on, and all sat down very neatly in a row. They were all carring weird metal things that looked like a large spool set into a metal frame - I don't know what they were, but if you saw one, you'd say "Damn, that looks like it fell off a yellow train if anything ever did!" For some reason, I couldn't stop looking at the 6 TA guys - something was subliminally wrong with them, and it took a few minutes to realize what it was. They were all CLONES! Identical, except for an interesting twist: If you looked at them from left to right, each one was about 5-10 years older than the last. The leftmost one was about 25, the one at the far right in his 60's, but they were THE SAME PERSON. I swear it. They were all dressed identically too: Faded blue jeans, dark blue shirt, gray plastic hard hat, and an orange and yellow fluorescent vest. They scared me, so I pulled out a book about COBOL programming to make sure they stayed on the other side of the car. Lucky I did, too - a few minutes later, a drunk reeled his way through the car. When he saw what I was reading, his eyes bulged about 2 inches out of his head, he turned around, and went back the way he came. I was clearly safe as long as I kept that book out. Except, I forgot one important thing: COBOL is mind-numbingly boring, even to programmers. If anyone ever tells you that COBOL is interesting, or that they like it, RUN. Don't think about it. JUST RUN! If you're locked in a room with the person, break down the door and RUN! So the good news was that no one would get within 15 feet of me; the bad news is I started actually reading the book and FELL ASLEEP ON THE 2 TRAIN. Anyone can tell you that falling asleep in the subway is a bad idea, especially after midnight. They don't know the half of it. I woke up to the sound of metal clanking, and carefully looked around. The train wasn't moving, and I figured it was parked somewhere in the depths of Brooklyn, wherever it is that 2 trains wind up. I tried to see what station we were in - it was one I had never seen before; one of the weird ones where the train is accessible from the doors on both sides. The only sign I could see in the station said "CONVERSION PLATFORM D." I didn't have time to think about the sign, because you should have seen what was going on outside the train. We were surrounded by TA employees, all busy at work. Some of them were installing little bars over all the train windows. Others were pulling out the doors and replacing them with the old-style ones with little round windows. And, of course, there was an army of painters, painting the damn train YELLOW! I had to escape. Now that I knew where yellow trains come from, they clearly could not let me live. Fortunately, one of the TA workers was taking a break, and had left his hat and fluorescent orange vest in the train, so I put them on and, to cursory inspection, could pass for a transit worker. I headed straight for the subway tunnel, and must have walked for miles. I had to dodge trains as I went, but it had to be safer than staying in that station from hell. Finally, I saw a ladder leading up to the surface. I climbed up, lifted a manhole cover, and reached fresh air. I was overjoyed for a few minutes, but then started trying to figure out where I was. It must have been the Twilight Zone, or maybe Queens - all the streets were numbered, but the numbers were out of order. I walked for hours and didn't see a single person - the fact that it was 4:30 in the morning may have something to do with it. Then again, maybe not. I finally gave up, sat down, leaned against a building, and went to sleep. A few minutes later, I was woken up by the sound of "Grand Army Plaza next!" I looked around. I was back on the 2 train, but now there were people on it, it wasn't yellow, and I was still holding my book. It must have all been a dream. But if it was, how did I get this yellow paint on my bag? .