Getaway Train

Daily I escape on the train from the doldrums of a desk job. To be fair, I delight in my routine duties. But still, I count the minutes until I can board that max and relax.

So it was one Wednesday. The Pioneer Square train stop is always over-crowded, so I hike up a few stops to grab a seat. (Is this unethical for a gentleman? I think not.) On the train, seated, zoning out to the familiar sounds I hear every day, the train reaches the tunnel. Without fail, half the passengers fall asleep to the apparently hypnotic sounds of tunnel travel. I'm so used to this route that I can almost count the seconds in my sleep until we emerge at the other end.

Suddenly the train comes to a screeching halt. Dozens of passengers stagger back to their feet, while I pat myself on the back for strategically grabbing a seat earlier. Half an hour goes by in this claustrophobic pod of people (not the most showered of people, mind you) before we hear a voice over the intercom:

"We've been red lighted in the tunnel because there is a bank robber on the train. Rest assured that the bag of money he stole is in fact a decoy with fake money--and a transmitter."

Good move, slick. Apparently even Portland's criminals are going green.