Wait, Did She Say Rome?

I had fallen in love; the leather jacket I had been searching for my whole life had finally revealed itself! There was just one problem - I had no money left, but I could definitely get my hands on some more. After explaining my situation to the store owner, he eagerly assured me that if I were to come back for it tomorrow I could make a small deposit and he would hold it for me, which was great news seeing as it was the last one in stock; but I would only have one day. Determined get my hands on the jacket, I handed him a twenty without a second thought and raced off to join the rest of my group, who were preparing to depart the breathtaking city of Florence. Later that night, a friend of mine - who, for the sake of anonymity, shall be named El Toro - had offered  to join me on my next excursion to Florence. I suppose we both saw it as a great chance to test our knowledge of the Italian transit system - specifically, the train. Had we known that it would be more a test of resolve than anything, we probably would have taken a taxi.

We set out right after class, keeping the fact that we only had two hours before the store closed in the fore of our minds. We started strong - and by strong I meant entirely confused by the ticketing system, but we were determined to figure it out ourselves (or too embarrassed to ask for help). It had only taken about ten minutes so we still had plenty of time. The hard part was over. After confirming which platform our train was leaving from we took our seats and waited patiently. The rest of the journey was simple; everyone had assured us that once you boarded the train in Prato, Florence was the last stop, so when the train arrived we casually took our seats, content to play the waiting game.

We passed the time with light conversation and stares of naked wonder as the train made its way through the countryside. Wait... countryside?? When I thought about it, it had been about thirty-five minutes since we left, but wasn't Florence only twenty-five minutes from Prato? A couple of old ladies had taken the seats next to us at our previous stop, so I leaned over and asked "The last stop for this train is the Florence main station, right?" The woman closest looked at me with confusion, and, at first, I thought it was because she didn't speak English, but then she said, "No, we just left Florence, this train is headed to Rome." For as long as I live, I will never forget the look that appeared on El Toro's face, nor the sinking feeling in my chest, upon hearing her words. "But we were told Florence was the last stop for this train." I explained. "No," she replied, "If you wanted Florence main station you were supposed to change trains a few stops ago." I wanted to die. It was all supposed to be so simple! "But you're lucky," the woman continued, "usually the next stop for this train would be Rome,  but we'll be making one more stop in about ten minutes." We were saved! Kind of.. "Unfortunately," she said with her phone in her hand "the next train to where you want to go will be leaving one minute after we arrive, from platform two. The one after that is an hour and a half from now." An hour and a half was much too long. El Toro and I decided we'd try our luck with the next train. We wouldn't have time to pay for the ticket but, then again, when did they ever check for tickets? And in the event that we did get caught, we'd just play the 'dumb-American card.' The plan was full-proof.

When the train stopped we thanked the old ladies a thousand times before sprinting off to catch our train. When we got to the platform, the beeping sound that indicated that the doors were closing started going off, but there was no way in hell I was missing that train, for I had a date with the mother of all jackets, and this was my last day to collect it. Before I knew it, I had rushed through the closing doors, but El Toro, thinking there was no way he could make it in time, had stopped dead in his tracks, resigned to his fate of being tragically left behind. But we had already come this far together, and I was determined to make sure it stayed that way, so I shoved my arm between the - now - narrow space and shouted for him to hurry. He made it, and we spent the better part of five minutes laughing like little school girls about the whole thing. Our laughter, however, came to a dead stop, almost as fast as the train did. We weren't at a station in Florence, we had stopped in the middle of a field for no apparent reason! Our first guess was that the conductor had caught wind of a couple of stowaways aboard his vessel, but an announcement was made, and it seemed like it was just a maintenance issue. With half an hour to go before the store closed, my nerves were running high. To make matters worse, the ticket collector - as if because he head decided he had nothing better to do during the intermission -  decided to start checking tickets. We found out quickly that he had little to no sympathy for 'dumb Americans' and our options (I can only assume) were between paying the hundred and thirty Euro fine and jail. Needless to say, we begrudgingly payed the fine.

Somehow, despite everything that stood in our way, we ended up making it to the store in time and acquired, what can now be called, the most expensive jacket I've ever bought. Of course, upon leaving the market place I spied about 3 jackets I would have rather gotten instead (and probably for a better price) but I guess that's just life. El Toro, in a spirit of awe-inspiring maturity (and probably catching wind of the defeated state I found myself in) assured me that the trip was not a total loss, as we now had invaluable intel on the ins-and-outs of the train system. Our mistake can, ultimately, be chalked up to a fatal lack of vigilance - a tool that should never be left behind when making your way through the unknown. Lesson learned. But at least it made for an interesting adventure...