Train Bottle
The bottle lay on its side against the right side of the SIR door opposite me when I boarded the train in St. George. It was a 20 ounce soda bottle with a light blue label. The name was facing away from me but I speculated that it was a Diet Pepsi bottle from the color. I didn’t think much of the bottle; it was just another piece of train litter.
The train pulled slowly out of the St. George yard and bip-boomed its way to the Tompkinsville stop. I was sitting on the side of the car opposite the ferry-bound track. The bottle shook as we moved from St. George to Tompkinsville but didn’t move much which meant that it was in the perfect position for someone getting on board at a station with a “middle” platform (that is, a platform between the ferry-bound and Tottenville-bound tracks) to fall over. I waited for the fun to begin.
At Tompkinsville, the doors opened and nobody got on via the doorway occupied by the bottle. Amazingly, the bottle remained perched right on the edge of the track that the right hand door slid along when opening and closing. It did not go anywhere.
The train shook and rumbled its way to Stapleton and the bottled started to move. I noticed it contained a small amount of white-yellow lemonade-like liquid that made it sort of shimmy and roll like a stumbling drunk out the front door of the bar at 4am. It started to move toward me, shaking and rolling, shaking and rolling. Now it was halfway across the car and I could see that it was actually some kind of new flavor of Mountain Dew but I couldn’t make out the words on the label. It might’ve said “diet” but I couldn’t be sure.
As the train braked into Stapleton the bottle paused and then slowly rolled back toward the door where I had first seen it. It stopped short of the door just waiting for a foot to kick it or stumble over it. Once again nobody boarded in that doorway. The doors closed and we began moving toward Clifton.
Clifton is a station with platforms on opposite sides of the two tracks so it would take quite a journey for that bottle to escape or to present itself as an obstacle to a boarding passenger. Instead of even trying the bottle just shook and rolled, shook and rolled, shook and rolled near the doorway where I had first seen it. It would venture timidly toward the middle of the car and then roll back to where it had come from. Clifton came and went without incident and the bottle still never came close enough for me to figure out what kind of Mountain Dew it was.
The Clifton to Grasmere journey is a bit longer than the previous stop-to-stop trips and it gave the bottle the opportunity to reach its closest proximity to my seat. One of the words on the label was almost certainly “Diet” but I couldn’t make out the other descriptors on the label. The yellow-white liquid sloshed from end to end within the bottle nudging its roll this way and that as the train crackled along. The bottle made an orbit around the pole in the center of the car and reversed field back toward its home opposite me. As the train gently coasted into Grasmere station the bottle repositioned itself on the right door opposite me.
Grasmere is another station with a center platform and the last one before my stop that was configured that way. I was curious to see what would happen to the sloshing, skittering bottle after that. So curious that I gave half a though to riding the train all the way to Tottenville if that’s what it took to find out how this trip would end for the staggering container. Would someone trip over it? Would some down-on-their-luck passenger pick it up for the nickel? Where else would its journey around the car take it?
Never mind about all that.
The doors opened at Grasmere and I fully expected to see the bottle hang there again as it had in Tompkinsville and Stapleton. And it did for a second it seemed. Then it slowly rotated and silently disappeared off the edge of the car. A second later I heard a hollow plastic plink as the bottle landed on the gravel in the rail bed.
The doors remained respectfully open for a few seconds before the “bing-bong” closed them. The train continued on its way.
I never did find out what flavor was in that bottle.
The train pulled slowly out of the St. George yard and bip-boomed its way to the Tompkinsville stop. I was sitting on the side of the car opposite the ferry-bound track. The bottle shook as we moved from St. George to Tompkinsville but didn’t move much which meant that it was in the perfect position for someone getting on board at a station with a “middle” platform (that is, a platform between the ferry-bound and Tottenville-bound tracks) to fall over. I waited for the fun to begin.
At Tompkinsville, the doors opened and nobody got on via the doorway occupied by the bottle. Amazingly, the bottle remained perched right on the edge of the track that the right hand door slid along when opening and closing. It did not go anywhere.
The train shook and rumbled its way to Stapleton and the bottled started to move. I noticed it contained a small amount of white-yellow lemonade-like liquid that made it sort of shimmy and roll like a stumbling drunk out the front door of the bar at 4am. It started to move toward me, shaking and rolling, shaking and rolling. Now it was halfway across the car and I could see that it was actually some kind of new flavor of Mountain Dew but I couldn’t make out the words on the label. It might’ve said “diet” but I couldn’t be sure.
As the train braked into Stapleton the bottle paused and then slowly rolled back toward the door where I had first seen it. It stopped short of the door just waiting for a foot to kick it or stumble over it. Once again nobody boarded in that doorway. The doors closed and we began moving toward Clifton.
Clifton is a station with platforms on opposite sides of the two tracks so it would take quite a journey for that bottle to escape or to present itself as an obstacle to a boarding passenger. Instead of even trying the bottle just shook and rolled, shook and rolled, shook and rolled near the doorway where I had first seen it. It would venture timidly toward the middle of the car and then roll back to where it had come from. Clifton came and went without incident and the bottle still never came close enough for me to figure out what kind of Mountain Dew it was.
The Clifton to Grasmere journey is a bit longer than the previous stop-to-stop trips and it gave the bottle the opportunity to reach its closest proximity to my seat. One of the words on the label was almost certainly “Diet” but I couldn’t make out the other descriptors on the label. The yellow-white liquid sloshed from end to end within the bottle nudging its roll this way and that as the train crackled along. The bottle made an orbit around the pole in the center of the car and reversed field back toward its home opposite me. As the train gently coasted into Grasmere station the bottle repositioned itself on the right door opposite me.
Grasmere is another station with a center platform and the last one before my stop that was configured that way. I was curious to see what would happen to the sloshing, skittering bottle after that. So curious that I gave half a though to riding the train all the way to Tottenville if that’s what it took to find out how this trip would end for the staggering container. Would someone trip over it? Would some down-on-their-luck passenger pick it up for the nickel? Where else would its journey around the car take it?
Never mind about all that.
The doors opened at Grasmere and I fully expected to see the bottle hang there again as it had in Tompkinsville and Stapleton. And it did for a second it seemed. Then it slowly rotated and silently disappeared off the edge of the car. A second later I heard a hollow plastic plink as the bottle landed on the gravel in the rail bed.
The doors remained respectfully open for a few seconds before the “bing-bong” closed them. The train continued on its way.
I never did find out what flavor was in that bottle.
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