“And this completes our
behind-the-scenes tour of Old Timey Train Town. It’s been a real experience to
show you through our little slice of heaven. And speaking of slices, why not
stop by the Dining Car Café for an authentic railway pizza? Then check out the
gift shop. You’ll find conductor caps, pennies flattened on real train rails,
and best of all, train whistles. They’re a treat for kids of all ages.”
The motley group I’d spent the past
hour with plods through the sawdust toward our profit centers. I let the smile
fall from my face and rub the crick in my neck. My palm comes away slick with
late summer sweat. The map may show Old Timey Train Town in Wisconsin, but
based on today’s temperature, I’d say we’re really closer to hell. I wish we
could uncork some cooler weather. Forty-five degrees sounds heavenly on a
record heat kind of day.
Since my shift is over, I decide to
head to the saloon. I take off my conductor cap and belly up to the bar. I could go for a nice, cold mug of beer, but
unfortunately the strongest beverage we stock is sarsaparilla. Once again, my
life stinks. If only I could hop a train the way my great granddad did, and
find my fortune in a new place.
In walks my manager with an obvious
stick up his butt.
“Grab your hat. Pat called in sick.
You know what this means…”
Yeah. My life sucks.
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