Train Out

Dear J—

You don’t know how fast you get someplace until you find yourself clawing for the last few minutes wherever you can; I spent yesterday afternoon pounding down the pavement towards the Santa Clara station (made it, barely) and trued at least one different thing on my way there: there’s a pedestrian overpass along Lafayette Street, bringing you over the train tracks just north of El Camino, with a tight spiral up and down.

I note this because I realized it was a mistake to tackle it as soon as I saw it going up and over: not that it was way too high, but that I had committed to it before looking. In a sense, that’s what I did with the train that first day: here you go, I’m riding the train with no real idea how to get to work or which car to ride on or … Everything was different, and new, and frightening. You can be as brave as you want on your own time, but when we’re talking about your livelihood, well, that’s slightly different. But only slightly.



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