Guess who's back? Back again. Jess is back. Tell a friend.

The plan was, I'd post an update when I arrived home in the wee hours of this morning. Unfortunately, a fiasco on the Long Island Railroad made the wee much wee-er and what I needed most of all upon my return was sleep.

The train left Hampton Bays at 11:40pm and was scheduled to arrive at Penn Station at 2:01am. Late, but Curly and I really wanted to make the most of our last day.

Shortly after the train left the station, and by shortly I mean about five minutes, the train stopped. And it didn't start up again for a really long time. After about 20 minutes, there was an announcement made.

"Sorry for the delay. We will be moving shortly."

This is an announcement? We heard this announcement several times over the course of the next two and a half hours. Apparently, "shortly" has a much different meaning than Webster would have me believe.

People began running amok and trying to find out what was going on. I was vaguely curious, but I also wanted to get some sleep because I had a job interview, THE JOB INTERVIEW, scheduled for today at 2:00pm and I wanted to be well-rested and ready to shine. From what I heard, there were police officers outside of the train, investigating something or other. I drifted off to sleep.

I awoke when Some Guy, who may have been a passenger and may have been a worker, walks into my car and says, in a thick Long Island accent, "Here's the situation. Some jackass kids were playing on the tracks and decided to mess with the driver, you know, by staying on the tracks and jumping off at the last minute? Anyway, the driver thought he hit one of the kids and now we have a 'heart attack-like situation.' 28 years old, he just had a baby and he's having a heart attack."

Naturally, those of us who don't spend much time sin the Hamptons normally and still have a soul felt badly for complaining. Then, Some Dude returned to inform us that the driver had been taken away in an ambulance because of shock (?), that he was 36 (?) and had a three-year old son (?) and that we'd be moving shortly. I leaned over to Curly.

"Does this feel like a bad game of telephone to you?" I asked as I listened to other passengers relay the same story with varying degrees of accuracy. She agreed.

Our train pulled into Jamaica, Queens around 4:00am, after an erratic, too fast ride that was orchestrated by someone who may or may not have been qualified to drive a train. No announcements were made on our train about whether there would actually be another to take us to Penn Station. Further investigation revealed there would be, at 4:27am. I started doing math on how many hours I could sleep before I needed to shower and prep for my interview.

I arrived home around 5:30am and immediately fell asleep. Five and a half hours later, bleary-eyed, I read company mission statements and online media kits and demographic information and perused a website for a job I might die if I don't get now. I think I did all right, but it's time for a nap. More Hamptons tales later, and maybe a pic of me pumping gas in a bikini top. But maybe not.

Next year, we're taking the motherfucking Jitney.