I’m standing on the track in Newark. Trains are running late. I’m running late. I want to get back to Princeton so I can finish shopping for presents. A train pulls in on track number three. I can’t hear any announcement, so I look up at the screen. The display says that this train is the delayed 7:30 to Trenton. I hop in and the train pulls away. The doors are closed and we’re moving. The pleasant-sounding recorded lady announces to the passengers, “The next station is… Woodbridge.” D’oh! Wrong train.
The girl standing next to me comes to the same realization as me. Other passengers begin to take notice of our predicament and a guy helps by showing us a train schedule for the Jersey Coast line. We determine we can get off at Woodbridge, wait about 10 minutes, and grab a train back to Rahway.
That’s precisely what we did. There’s about five of us who made the same assumption — the assumption that the sign in Newark was correct. I got home later than I wanted and had no time to go shopping as well as do the homework I have tonight. So, that’s where I am now. That’s my story.
Face facts. NJ Transit is pure evil. Even worse, disorganized pure evil.