Mind the Gap

I'm about to tell you something very sad.

The day before I left Austria, I was making my last commute into the city to say goodbye. While I was waiting for a train, I noticed two girls standing close to me, one in very high heels. They were rattling away in German and I didn't really pay them much attention.

The train came. About 15 people proceeded to board in a mad rush. The girl in high heels and I both got on at the same time. Well ... kind of. I managed to get on successfully, but as I reached the last step I saw her drop into the gap between the platform and the train. She had stumbled on the step and one of her legs slipped, sending her into a split-like position. She was now stuck with one leg in the train and one leg in the gap. It all happened within a milisecond, but she managed a scream and immediately everyone rushed to her rescue. I didn't even have time to move before she was being helped out by her friend.

Now friends, the distance between the actual track and the top of the platform is about four feet. This girl had one leg in the four foot drop and the other in the train, which is about a foot higher than the platform. I can't describe to you the terror of her position. It was impossible for her to get out by herself. Usually there isn't a big gap between the train and platform, but it depends on the type of train. Luckily there is a conductor on every train who checks the platform before departure. Nothing would have happened to her because there were so many people around, but the thought of getting caught in the gap terrified me so much that I had trouble getting off at my stop. Silly.

The girl cried the whole time I was on the train and understandably so. She fell so hard and she was probably embarrassed beyond reason. As you can see, this experience tramatized me so much that I had to blog about it. By now you're probably regretting that you decided to read this. This is one of the rare occasions where I'm diverting from my newsy style of blogging to reflect on a personal experience.

But really, isn't that sad?