No one in Fort Worth is from Fort Worth

Departing Dallas...

15 minutes unmoved, I wondered how long we’d be in the Fort Worth station. The couple next to me said we’d be pulling out at 2 pm, which meant 45 minutes unoccupied.  

(One thing I love about train stations, is that cities were built around the rail road, and with no x-rays, or boarding groups; 45 minutes is 45 minutes; which, when placed within the center of town allows for sufficient time to accomplish an objective or two). 

My objective: coffee shop.

When I exited the train, I learned another truth. Amtrak employees are either angry, or extremely opinionated; and perhaps both. A thing I’ve noticed to bother me of late, and likely because I’m guilty of it from time to time; is when folks substitute an opinion or non-helpful statement for the answer to a question. 

Example:

(Exiting the train, with backpack, suggesting hopes of walking)
Me: The train leaves again at 2 o’clock right? 

(Leaning against bike rack, smoking a Marlboro Red)

Amtrak Employee: The train doesn’t wait; they’ll leave you.

Where a simple yes or no will do; dear humankind, use yes or no.

So instead, rather than sarcasm or anger, I resorted to ignorance; pretending to have an exhaustive list of things to accomplish. 

Conversation revisited:

Me: The train leaves again at 2 o’clock right?

Amtrak Employee: The train doesn’t wait; they’ll leave you. 

Me: Well, I was really hoping to get through the JFK memorial museum; do you know if they offer afternoon tours of the convention center? 

Amtrak Employee: Honey, it’s 1:20. 

Me: Wow, I better hurry huh! Thank you so much.

I wondered if she was enjoying her cigarette, and think she called me a smart ass as I turned my smirk to downtown; but I was open air, 40 minutes freedom, and thirsty. 

I spotted a kid out of Lords of Dogtown, and spoke loud enough for him to take an ear phone out to respond: “I’m not from around here, but there’s a Starbucks three blocks past the convention center, on your right.” Slightly baffled, I asked him where Main Street was, to which he laughed; commented on only visiting his sister, and pointed in the direction of somewhere. 

I continued my trek toward Main Street, conscious of time, and the unlikely chance of succeeding without the help of a local; neither of whom apparently, the woman scrolling her cellphone outside of Starbucks, nor the shoeless man sitting against the bank of america skyscraper, were. 

(No snob intentions, I was expressly looking for local shop, and had a deadline of 1:35 at which I'd give in to Starbucks for the sake of accomplishing objective). 

Last minute intersecting a cafe, named "Corner Bakery," I shuffled to the register, and $2.05'ed for a paper cup. 'Cafe europa' contained coffees from Asia, Africa, & the Americas, and tasting the most pleasing of the four, I wondered if a better name might have been 'cafe imperialism,' as I percolated a full cup of the dubbed 'rich and sophisticated' blend, and thanked a bus boy, cleaning a nearby countertop.  

Out the door, I set down my cup atop a street side trash can, spilling on my left, and grabbing my camera with right, hand; to take a few pictures of main street, and my first encounter with Fort Worth, the city of visitors.

Back to station, 1:47; I cheers'ed my cup in the direction of Lady Marlboro, and she back; and together we boarded, burying the hatchet with a chuckle and southbound to San Antonio.