The Unusual Train ride: A One Way Ticket to Taste
I stand outside waiting for my train ride, the cool autumn breeze tickling my face. November is my favorite month because as a college student, getting any form of break is enjoyable. Being home with family and hanging out with close friends that you haven’t seen in what feels like decades. The only thing that I dread about November is something that everyone else enjoys. The dread of dealing with Thanksgiving. I’m not talking about dealing with the typical politically intolerable uncle or the aunt who has a few to many glasses of wine. The worst part about Thanksgiving is the repulsive food. The pungent smell of the slop known as Mac and Cheese, the sickening look of the stuffing and the putrid turkey. The only thing I can stand is the mashed potatoes. Who wouldn’t want to eat mashed up french fries coated in butter and salt?
Thanksgiving was always something I dreaded as a kid growing up because my family always planned for it in advance after Halloween. The excitement would spread like wildfire as they pulled out recipes from grandma’s dusty old book and the aroma of pies raided our home. My parents always found Thanksgiving to be a big deal, as for me, it was a puke fest. Being a picky eater is difficult as an adult and having others question why I don’t eat is anxiety inducing. The train roared into the station, the smell of exhaust filled the air. The slow creaking came to a halt and I boarded the train. I found a window seat to stare out of and put in my headphones to pass the time before my destination. As the train started to pull away, a woman with a bubbly personality zoomed her way to me. She was definitely older than me, but had an older sister vibe. Her ruby red lipstick was applied perfectly, her long wavy auburn hair flowed like those supermodels you see in a magazine. Her bust seemed to jiggle with her awkward movements which distracted me slightly.
“Ticket?” She said with a high pitched and peppy voice. I silently handed her my student ID and showed her the QR code for the purchased ticket on my phone. She happily scanned my ticket and beamed with some high energy. She probably sensed I was someone who was a bit on the quieter side because she tried to start a conversation with me.
“Headed home for the holiday huh? Isn’t Thanksgiving the best? All the food and how you can not enjoy all the leftovers! I eat until I pop like a balloon!”
I chuckled at her comment, but didn’t respond. She scanned my code and handed back my ID. She stared at me with a hopeful, yet confusing look on her face. She proceeded to ask me probably one of the worst questions imaginable and my stomach lurched at the mere thought of her horrifying question. “You know, we have a special train lunch today? They do this once a year and are very generous with the portions! We got turkey legs and of course the mashed potatoes! This also comes with a side of cranberry sauce and of course a serving saucer of gravy!” She was so excited about describing this in great detail to me and I had to do my best not to gag at the mere thought of these things all together in a smorgasbord of slop. I shook my head and waved my hand gently at her motioning that I was not interested. This didn’t stop her though, she was yapping and nipping at me like a chihuahua about this horrifying experience.
“Awww, I think you’re hungry, I am going to place an order for you right away, that’ll cheer you right up hon! I know you college kids never eat anything proper!” Before I could even exclaim the words no, she took off like a freakin’ nascar. The anxiety was bubbling up inside of me and was beginning to spill out. I was like a volcano that had just exploded due to fear being delivered to me on a plate. I started to shake my leg rapidly and slapped my hands against my jeans. What would I even do? I don’t want to be rude and not take the food now. I don’t want to explain to her that I’m a college student who has the palette of a four year old.
I turned up the volume on my phone so I could attempt to drown out the thoughts and imaginations of what the food probably tasted like. My music was at full blast, I continued to shake my leg and I stared out the window. The tree’s colors began to blend into hues of orange and yellow due to the train’s speed going at a decently fast pace. Every minute that went by felt like I was in a never ending nightmare. My heart rate rapidly increased and I began to sweat so badly, it felt like I just got out of the pool. The woman started coming in with a tray filled with everything I couldn’t even stomach to look at.
“Here hon, eat up! I’m going to get everyone else’s tickets and I expect that plate to be gone by the time I finish my round!” She almost had a little bit of a pep in her step after she talked with me. She was so proud to be serving me this food that little did she know, I was on the verge of throwing up. I looked away from the tray for a very long time, but the smell made me succumb to looking at this plate of muck. I closed one eye and left the other open to see what I had to prepare myself for. I felt like with this much stress, I was going with Gandalf and Frodo on a quest to defeat a powerful being. Except this powerful being was a monstrous plate of goulash coming to attack my insides.
The woman came back a little too quickly from checking everyone in and talking to her started to become exhausting. “Hon, that food is going to get cold if you don’t eat up!” She stared at me like I was some lab experiment that escaped from area 51 and she tilted her head to the side like a confused puppy. She then proceeded to abruptly leave my area, she really does have some sort of super sonic speed power with how fast she moves. She came back with something even more horrifying that I had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn’t in a dream. It was a second tray of food and my stomach started doing endless flips. Then she did the strangest thing, she sat across from me and started pulling out some utensils.
She pulled out a fork and started stabbing her turkey. Ripping apart the weird slimy skin off the leg until she got to the darkened meat. Then she dove her turkey into the sea of mashed potatoes. The sight alone made me feel I was watching a tragedy unfold before me and there was nothing I could do about it. She tossed the sludge into her mouth and began to chew silently, but her face lit up upon the flavors dancing on her tongue. She used her same fork with a bit of mashed potato and turkey meat still remaining on the fork, to then dive into some cranberry sauce. How could she do this to me? Does she not see my horrified expression and discomfort?
“C’mon, you need to try this! It’s so delicious!” I just stared down at my plate, the mashed potato seeping into the turkey and the cranberry sauce that looked like repurposed brains. I was embarrassed because she saw sweat dripping from my forehead and now my leg was shaking so badly, the table began to vibrate. She pushed her tray aside and put out her hand. She motioned me to give her my hand, my nasty sweaty hand. I slowly gave her my hand and she just smiled at me with radiance.
“There’s no need to feel ashamed, just try it, I assure you! I wouldn’t poison the food!” I chuckled at her joke and proceeded to tremble. I took a few deep breaths and kept my eyes sealed shut. I used my other hand to lift the fork and kept the other trembling hand in her grasp. What was I doing? Why am I so compelled to try this plate of muck?
She squeezed my hand a bit tighter this time, I believe this was her way of showing me her support. I opened one eye and dug the fork into the turkey. I closed my eyes again and threw the turkey in my mouth so quickly; I didn’t have a chance to react. I shredded each piece with my teeth and swallowed very quickly. After this, I went for the cranberry sauce and this was a true challenge. Again, I scooped a piece with my fork and I didn’t even chew, just swallowed and the cold slim slid down my throat. Once I was done chewing, I opened my eyes and the woman was still there. The explosion of flavor suddenly punched me in the face. The savory turkey and the sweetness of the cranberry sauce paired well. I was actually starving because I don’t eat a lot of things normal people usually eat.
The burst of flavor took me by surprise and left me wanting more. I started to slowly mix the turkey and the mashed potato together. I didn’t realize how quickly I was eating though because the woman started to giggle which then turned to gut busting laughter. My face began to turn as red as a beet and I shoveled the last bit of food on my plate into my mouth. “You didn’t have the gravy, but man you sure did enjoy that meal. Sorry for laughing, you were just acting like that was your last meal before the electric chair struck ya.” The woman’s laughter slowly began to subside and she looked at me again like she was an older sister of mine.
“I am glad I was able to help with your fear, I knew you seemed to be picky, I mean look at cha!” I looked at my baggy clothes that clearly didn’t fit me well and just looked at her, she let out yet another gentle giggle. “Don’t be afraid of new things now okay? You just gotta give yourself more credit and soon enough, you’ll be more confident than a lying politician!” I laughed at her joke and I started to become more relaxed, the anxiety melting away. Just like that however, she disappeared without warning. Both trays of food were empty and I felt this warm sensation streaming through me.
I felt a surge of courage flowing throughout my body. I looked out the window once more, looking at the forever changing colored trees. I gently smiled to myself and thought of all the new things to try with my family Thanksgiving. Picturing their chanting and watching their expressions as I tried each food made me laugh. I was, for the first time ever, excited to come home for Thanksgiving.
