Many years ago, my friend Derek and I were on a train from Frankfurt to Prague. It was the old-fashioned kind that used to be the norm in Europe, with separate compartments along a narrow corridor.
We wondered why most people kept their sliding doors shut, but figured it was for noise and privacy. Alone in our pod, we sat opposite each other by the door, which we left open. Before long I dozed off.
Shortly thereafter, Derek heard a rhythmic sound that seemed to be growing nearer: tap tap, tap tap, tap tap. He was puzzled for a moment, but then a blind woman tottered into view, feeling her way along with a white cane.
She was doing quite well until she reached our compartment, at which point the train lurched to one side, propelling her through our open doorway. Derek gaped in horror and fascination, sure she was about to land in my lap, but then the train swayed the other way, flinging Fräulein Keller back out the door. She continued on without missing a beat: tap tap, tap tap, tap tap. And Derek wisely closed the door.
Had our roles been reversed, I would have burst into hysterics, waking him up immediately. But Derek is more mature and waited for me to stir before telling me about my near miss.
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I do believe that you still burst into hysterical laughter later on that Train... something about the splash of purple hair on the 89 year old Eastern European woman sitting next to us in the Dining car. You sprayed the entire set of White Linens with your hot chocolate. I'm sure they are still talking about it on the train to Prague.
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