Bud Light and a microwaved train hot dog. Acela stuck in Trenton, NJ vibes.
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The Amtrak microwaved hot dog is its own layer of travel dining sadness. I've been there, recently, and you'll never feel good about yourself afterward. But you end up with no other options. Sad.
The chewy bun really does it. There’s a real sense of fraternity here in the café car both in the fellowship sense and the everyone-is-standing-around-making-small-talk-and-drinking-Bud Light sense, too.
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Ugh, that's it, the thing is so ... chewy. You just don't know what's cooked, what's processed, what's not cooked and not processed. But yes, the camaraderie of the broke/delayed train is always great. (I'll be in your boat Friday afternoon.)
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