Earlier this week, I took the train to Provo. After our team Christmas party, I took the train home. It was the ride home where things got interesting.
I love taking trains. It reminds me of when I lived in Europe decades ago. I know trains are not the answer to our transportation needs--in fact, trains were that answer two-hundred years ago. Still, there's something about riding in trains that I love. Our Christmas party was in Provo--I could have driven, but I took the train.
Like anywhere, there's decorum and rules when you're on a train. Usually, you don't talk to one another. When I rode the train into Salt Lake on the way to Provo, no one spoke to each other. We all had our headphones in, listening and watching whatever it took to make the trip more interesting. When I climbed aboard the northbound train after the party, the "usually don't talk to each other" rule sort of went away.
Not that I talked to anyone, mind you. No, I kept to myself and just listened.
It seems people leaving Provo on the train at this time of year are from all over the planet. Two people behind me were a good example. One lived in California, the other from Washington State. Both were on their way home for Christmas. A few seats down, another couple struck up a conversation. One was from the east coast, another from the midwest. They chatted, swapped "what it's like to be a BYU student" stories, how they felt going home, how Utah is too cold for the warmer-climate people. You know, basic stuff.
I heard nothing like that on the way down.
Maybe people are just friendlier who ride the train leaving Provo.
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