F-Train Adventures: The Princess Cruisers

In 2004, a few friends and I spent a glorious week on a Princess cruise ship that went to Mexico (I had a friend who worked there in the summers and got us a trip for almost free, and being the poor college students that we were, we figured it would be ALMOST CRIMINAL to pass up such an opportunity). While others our age were doing body shots in Cancun, we were taking full advantage of the all-you-can-eat buffet and the G-rated variety shows. When we would manage to tear ourselves away from our best friend the buffet, we amused ourselves by sitting in the Dipper and laughing wickedly (demonstrated below, with random stranger) and devising suspicious stories about our neighbors who never emerged from their room the entire length of the trip. (Our conjecture? They came to die.)

So as you can see, despite the fact that the median age of a Princess Passenger is somewhere in the 55-65 year range (yes, I did actually waste time this morning looking this up), I have some very fond memories of my time with Princess.

This fondness, however, did not translate when I stepped onto a crowded F-train last week (at the middle door…this detail will be very important) to be greeted by a large group of Princess Passengers, complete with luggage.

"How do people pay when they don't get on at the front door?" a Princess Passenger crabbed to her traveling companion. He mumbled something about monthly passes. "Hmmph," she said.

The driver announced that Broadway was the next stop. "Broadwaaaaaay! Broadwaaaaaay!" one of the male Princess Passengers started singing, over and over. Fortunately, he did not snap his fingers to the beat.

Next, there was much discussion over whether the stop at the cruise terminal was, in fact, the right stop. After it was ascertained that it was (concluding factor: the big Princess cruise ship outside), it was time to disembark from the F with the luggage.

"STOP! WE HAVE TO GET OFF! WE HAVE TO GET OFF!" screamed one of the Princess Passengers. This, of course, created a massive sense of panic amongst the PPs, and led several more Princess Passengers to bellow to the driver about THEIR LUGGAGE! and IT WOULD TAKE THEM SOME TIME TO GET OFF!

This was the understatement of the century. First there was the flustered handling of the luggage. Then there was the confusion over which door to exit from. Then there was the paralyzing fear because the DOOR WON'T OPEN. WHY WON'T IT OPEN! ("Step down!" we all tiredly said.)

When the train had quieted down again, we all had some time to breathe a sigh of relief and steel ourselves for the next big tourist stop, Alcatraz. Why oh why do I work by Pier 39?