Last night, post-work, I headed over to Ella's. Left around 11PM to catch the 12:10 home.
Arrived at North Station with about seven minutes to spare, no problem. The monitor that displays the gates has been removed. I look around the corner, the JumboTron thing that displays the gates is turned off. I hear someone say that Rockport is Gate 4. I head over, a female conductor that used to work the Rockport line is at the gate.
I make small talk then board. Geeze, this train is taking a long time to leave...
Fifteen minutes later the train is in motion. About ten minutes after that, I realize I forgot my wallet and I sought out a conductor -- hopefully one who knows me and that I normally have a Zone 8 pass -- to explain.
The good news is I find that Rockport conductor again. The bad news is she isn't working the Rockport line tonight.
"Are you on the wrong train?"
"... Tell me this is the Rockport train."
And so there I am. West Medford. At 12:45AM. No busses. No commuter rails back into Boston. Can't find a payphone. No taxis at all and no wallet to pay one anyway.
That conductor was good enough to call Ella a few more times after I disembarked, that was nice of her.
I found a cab, took it all the way to Watertown. Ted was nice enough to front me $20, Ella covered my food and gave me an extra $21 for the trip home. Huge thanks to both for turning a hellish night into a fully tolerable one.
But now I'm home, I smell like a hirsute armpit and my brain can't figure out if it's awake or not.