There is a reason that train number 354 is sometimes referred to as: "the train from hell". That reason is twofold. First of all one must remember that this train leaves late in the day, and secondly one must remember that alcohol is served in the cafe. During the week this is not too much of a problem. However, come Friday and Saturday when the good folks are on their way Chicago to party, they like to get a head start while on the train. Sometimes even before they get on the train.

By and large this is tolerable, other than the dB level in the cafe tends to rise in relation to our distance from the Windy City, i.e. the closer to Chicago - the louder it gets. So far, I have yet to put anyone off the train for being intoxicated. The reason for this is that I am very good at making said persons believe me when I look them in the eye and tell them, "I will put you off the train."

Loudness is to be expected in an environment where alcohol is served. It is simply unfortunate that there is a certain element of the drinking public that seems to equate 'having a good time' with 'how loud I am talking'. Therefore, these individuals equate 'boy, I'm really having fun now' with 'because I'm yelling at the top of my lungs'. Now, here is a strange thing: women that are getting into their cups are worse than men. I say this because a drunk man will respond to such entreaties as, "I know you're having fun and we want you to have a good time on your way to Chicago, however there are small children in the car so if you could please watch your language it would be appreciated. Thank you very much." Or perhaps something along the lines of, "Pardon me Sir, how are we doing tonight? Great. Hey, if you don't mind - since there are people trying to sleep at the other end of the car, could you kind of hold it down a little bit please? Thanks a lot."

Most men if approached with a degree of courtesy and politeness will try to accommodate your wishes. They may have to be reminded periodically but will generally try and avoid bringing any negative attention upon themselves, that they may continue drinking and whatever else they may be doing. Women, however, react quite differently. Even if approached with consideration and politeness there is a tendency to argue and resist. And women are much harder to convince that the possibility of their being removed from the train is very real. Give me a male drunk person any day.

Consider the two ladies that had seats in business class. Our business class seats are located at one end of the cafe car itself. The other end of the cafe car has tables for our guests to use while they dine. These two areas are separated by the counter service area where the lounge car attendant waits on his customers. Since there are only a few tables, our public address announcements include such advice as: 'the tables in the cafe are for food service only', and 'there is no permanent seating in the cafe'. Needless to say that does not stop our guests from attempting to play cards, use their computers, and generally try to monopolize a table for themselves all the way to Chicago. Our elderly passengers are frequently uncomfortable trying to carry their trays of food back to their coach seats while the train is moving and rocking. They would prefer to eat in the cafe car. So we try to enforce the 'no permanent seating' rule. We try to use reasoning something along these lines - "We would like to offer all our guests a table of their own, all the way to Chicago. But since that is impossible, we prefer to keep these tables available for those who would like to sit down and eat."

It's an uphill struggle, but enough of that.

The two ladies in question, drinks in hand, occupied one of the tables in the cafe early on. At that point the cafe was not crowded. As the journey progressed and the pace of business in the cafe picked up, our two ladies continued consuming at a steady rate which was marked by the aforementioned rise in the volume of their conversation. Needless to say, two loud ladies drinking by themselves will attract a certain amount of attention. Perhaps that's the idea for they soon had three fellows sitting with them. Now these fellows certainly had a head start somewhere because they were pretty well juiced when they sat down. By now the cafe car was packed and the general noise level had been rising steadily. At most tables folks were drinking and some were even drinking and dining. And all seemed to be intent on convincing themselves and everyone else within ear shot what a good time they were having on Friday night traveling Amtrak to Chicago.

Above the muted roar rose the voices of our two ladies. Their shrieking peels of laughter were punctuated now by an unfortunate degree of vulgarity. Mind you, their conversation would not have been out of place in your local corner tavern, which seems to be where a lot of folks think they are, after a few cocktails. I went to have my first of what would turn out to be several conversations with them.

"Hi folks, how are we doing tonight?"

"Hey, we're doing great!"

"Where are you folks going?" It's always good start the conversation off on a friendly note.

"We're going to Chicago to party." Hooting and hollering, yells of, "Right on, man, yeah, parrtyyy!"

"Well that's good, that's fine. I wonder if I could ask your cooperation here?" A nod here, a look of suspicion there.

"Could you folks please hold it down to a low roar? And maybe kind of watch the vocabulary? I'd really appreciate it."

"Sure man, sure, no problem." This delivered by the two fellows sitting closest to me. It was the prescribed response intended to satisfy all concerned and it did. Except the two ladies.

"Nobody's swearing, and we're not making any more noise than anyone else, we're just having a good time."

At this point I merely smiled, nodded my thanks again, and returned to my 'office' at one of the tables at the end of the cafe. I took a turn through the coaches, we made another station stop, and I once again found myself sitting in the cafe. And once more I couldn't help but be amazed at the level of yelling and shrieking coming from our friends several tables away. When one table of five people is carrying on in a very loud fashion it tends to make the folks at the other tables raise the level of their conversation in return. Partly just to be heard and partly the syndrome 'we must be having big fun because we're making big noise.' And, 'we must be having more fun than those other guys because we're talking much louder.’

It is primarily vulgarity, especially loud vulgarity in an environment with children, that will get me out of my seat. It is perhaps 20 minutes after the last time I spoke to our five friends. A quick trip to the counter to speak with the lounge service attendant and cut these folks off seems in order, to which I attend. I then stand next to their table for several moments before they can ignore me no longer. Finally, ten somewhat bleary eyes drift my way. With a smile and a nod I begin,

"Well, you folks certainly seem to be having a fine time."

"Whoa yeah, right, we are, great time!"

"Well, if I might ask once again, could you please try to keep the noise down to a low roar?"

Amid nods of general agreement one of the ladies speaks up. . .

"Why do you keep bothering us? We're just having a good time. Why are you picking on us? Why don't you just leave us alone?"

"I'm sorry if you feel picked on, but you guys are making a pretty good racket. I can hear you from the next car above everyone else. And your vocabulary is not really appropriate for mixed company."

"I'll have you know that I'm a college graduate. I have two degrees and I think I know what's appropriate and what's not." This delivered at full volume and in an extremely haughty manner.

"Well that's very nice and all I'm asking is could you watch the vocabulary and maybe tone it down a little?"

I can see that this lady is working up to another college level retort. However, I nod at the group in total and walk back to my seat.

From this point, every time the ladies get loud and boisterous again their fellows make an effort to remind them that I have not been happy with their noise levels. However, after the next station stop when I return to the cafe they are really out of hand again. They are even beginning to get dirty looks from some of the other tables. Their behavior, college level or not, is out of line. The fellows see me come in and try to subdue things but it is too late. I dislike being forced into the role of monitor but it is part of my job. This time when I return to their table I carry with me a form that we use when passengers must be removed from the train. When I have their attention I hand the form to the fellow nearest me and suggest they fill it out now. I mention that this will save time later if I have to come back again and ask them to try and restrain their yelling and swearing.

The fellows realize this is getting serious, but the women do not. They seem to feel it is a further challenge to their ability to judge appropriate behavior and continue to berate my interference. The one highly educated lady in particular has taken offense to the notion of being removed from the train.

"I’m not signing this for you or any one else, go ahead, call the police. We haven’t done anything wrong."

I leave the form and explain once again that we would like them to enjoy themselves on their way to Chicago as long as it doesn't infringe on the enjoyment of others. I also suggest that it might be time to return to their seats and let some one else use the table. This idea is not met with much acceptance, either. I leave it at that and return to my seat.

It seems that as long as they are aware of my presence an effort is made (by the fellows) to exert some control over their partying. So I stay nearby more or less to ride heard on the noise level. And pretty much it works. Now, mother nature herself intervenes.

Our collage level lady manages to stagger out of the booth and heads back to the business class section, to use the restroom, I assume. The lounge car attendant is taking a five-minute break, or is perhaps in the restroom himself. At any rate the next thing I notice is that this woman is trying to get behind the waist high service counter. She does manage this (the door was not latched all the way) and as I am getting up from my booth her head disappears from sight. At that moment the lounge attendant returns from the other direction and begins to yell,

"Hey lady! You can't do that in here!"

She was apparently trying to disrobe thinking that she was in the Loo. This is sufficient commotion to get the attention of the remaining four persons in her party. I suggest to her girlfriend that perhaps she could use a little help and the two of them manage to head for the restroom, the real restroom this time.

It is not long after that and we are approaching Chicago. When I entered the business class section to pull the seat checks and let people know we are almost there I noticed our two ladies seemed to be passed out. I lean over and speak in their direction saying, "Ladies, this is Chicago, we're here." And the lady that had wanted to be argumentative opens a bleary eye, vomits on her friend, on herself, on the seat and the wall and the floor. My conductor reflexes allow me to jump back just in time to avoid this sudden outpouring of hot smelly puke.

It only takes a moment to ascertain that she will live and is not choking and at this point I cannot resist a final question.

"Madame, apparently neither of those degrees was in common sense?"

It is sad but true that some of our patrons arrive in Chicago no more ready to paaarrrtyyy than the man in the moon. About all they can manage is a cab ride to the hotel to spend the rest of their 'big night in the windy city' passed out.

Yes, Fridays can be hell.