I strode across the bustling train platform directly to the ticket counter, ignoring the squawks of those waiting in line. I slapped my ticket onto the counter.
"My name is Erin Charmless. This is a ticket for coach, and if you morons think I'm supposed to ride six hours in coach all the way to Chrystal Heights, you've got another think coming. I phoned ahead, so let's get this over with, already."
The girl behind the counter looked harried, but that wasn't my problem. She glanced at the ticket. "Yes, Miss Charmless. We were warned...er, informed that you were coming. A customer service representative has been assigned to you, to ensure you get the service you deserve."
I snorted. "With this outfit, that'll be the day. I'm twenty-four years old...any chance they'll be here
before
I turn twenty-five?"
The girl offered her sweetest smile. "Miss Moreland will be with you shortly, ma'am. She's aware of your arrival."
I wasn't fooled by the smile, but I let it go. If I started harping on everything, I'd just give myself a headache. Sometimes my job as representative and courier for the art studio was more trouble than it was worth. Yes, I made great money for essentially being nothing more than glorified eye candy, but I had to take this six hour train ride over to Shadow Point every week, and then the six hour ride back to Chrystal Heights as well. At least the studio sent me first class.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a man in the next line nudge his friend and tilt his head towards me. His friend turned and looked directly at my boobs, which were obvious despite my business skirt suit.
I gave the friend a don't-waste-your-time look. "To answer your question, yes, they're real," I said. "34D, to answer your next question. Any more questions?"
The first guy said, "Yeah...do you swallow?"
Jerk.
I gave him my most superior smile. "Only if you have more than six digits in your savings account, sweetie. Not much chance of that with you, is there?" I loved putting his type in place. Just because I have blonde hair and big boobs, they always assume I'm some sort of bimbo.
The man tried to mumble some sort of reply, but I turned away from him as I spotted a professionally dressed woman in her mid-thirties walking purposely towards me. The dark-haired woman extended her hand.
"Miss Charmless? I'm Gail Moreland. I understand you've had some problems with your seating. If you'll follow me, we'll get you taken care of immediately."
She sounds like someone who knows what she's doing,
I thought. A pleasant change, for once. "I hope so, Gail," I said, as I followed her through the crowd. "I seem to have a great deal of trouble getting adequate service from your employees."
"Yes," she said, guiding me onto the train. "I've heard that you've had some complaints. Many complaints, actually."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked.
"Oh, I meant only that the staff have mentioned that you've had numerous complaints."
"Yes," I said. "I'm aware that I can seem very demanding. I may be young, but I have learned that if you want something, nobody is going to give it to you. You have to reach out and take it." We had entered a private boxcar, one apparently not available to the general public.
"Well, Miss Charmless, in this case, your demands for excellence have paid off. Because our first-class seating has been filled, we've allotted you our P.I.A. seat."
I looked at Gail suspiciously. "What's a P.I.A. chair?"
Gail looked surprised. "Did I say P.I.A.? I meant V.I.P. seat. Yes. That's what I meant to say."
She opened a door to a small private booth. There was a plush captain's chair facing towards the front of the train. There was also a television and a stereo in the booth. The quality of the furnishings was obvious.
Gail waved a hand, indicating the plush chair, and I slipped into it without further urging. I could feel myself pleasantly sinking into it. I murmured in satisfaction, "Yes...this is much more to my liking, Gail."
"Oh, it gets better, Erin. May I call you Erin?" she asked.
A slight lurch signaled the train's departure from the station. I hesitated only a second, then answered, "Erin is fine, Gail."
"Thank you, Erin. Now, give me a moment to program the chair...there. Now, you should notice a pleasant difference."
I waited. As the train picked up speed, I finally realized what she meant. "Oh! The chair is vibrating to the rhythm of the train's movement!" I said.
Gail smiled proudly. "Exactly. It's a built-in massager, of sorts. Here, let me wrap your forearms and calves in these sleeves." She proceeded to wrap some light material around my forearms and calves. I wasn't restricted, but I could feel the pleasant vibrations throughout my body now.
"Oh, just so you know, you aren't completely alone in this car. The rest of the car is actually taken up by The Spirals and their entourage. They shouldn't bother you, however."
I rolled my eyes. The Spirals were a rock band of sorts, more famous for their parties than their music. They considered hotel-room trashing an art form, and had been known to destroy items in their rooms just to see how close they could get to their deposit without actually going over. I suspected they played their music loud to hide their lack of talent. I knew they were semi-famous, but I had no urge to meet them. Still, as long as they stayed in their quarters or whatever they were called, things would be fine, and I told Gail so, just to show her I could be cooperative as well.
Gail nodded. "Here are the headphones for the stereo and television. Just push one of these buttons to switch between the two," she said. "Now, I'm going to check on the other passengers. I'll be back later to check on you."
I waved a hand in dismissal. I was feeling pretty comfortable. I heard Gail exit, then realized I needed to use the bathroom. I grumbled, mad at myself for not doing it when I first got here, but got myself out of the chair.
I left the booth and made my way toward a door that looked like it belonged to a bathroom. Just before I got there, a door farther down the hall burst open, accompanied by a sudden blast of loud music. A man stepped out of the room, laughing, then closing the door. He spotted me and raised a hand.
"Wazza, baby!" he said.
I could only stare at the man. He had long black hair, well past his shoulders, and he appeared to be covered with tattoos. He was wearing a black t-shirt with some band name on it. The sleeves had been cut from the t-shirt and there were several holes in his jeans.
Finally I said, "I beg your pardon?"
The man laughed. "I said, 'wazza, baby!' You know, like, hello."
"I see," I said.
"You got nice tits," he said. "Are you here for the party?"
Oh, wonderful. This moron thought I was a groupie. "No, I'm not. I just need to use the bathroom. If you'll excuse me...?" I stepped past the reject into the bathroom.
"Hey!" he said.
"What?" I asked.
"Have you seen an ice machine anywhere?"
I rolled my eyes and shut the door.
***
Five minutes later I was back in my chair, eyes closed, just enjoying the massage. The comforting clackity-clack-clack of the train's wheels on the track, magnified slightly by my chair into a soothing massage, made relaxing very easy. I soon drifted off peacefully.
I awoke about 30 minutes later because I couldn't breathe. I sat up and quickly realized why; my blouse was way too tight. I unbuttoned my blouse as quick as I could, and that's when I realized it wasn't my blouse; it was my bra. I blinked in amazement. The cups had been stretched beyond their capacity to endure, and my boobs were swelling over the tops of the cups. I must have yelled as I got to my feet, because Gail was there within seconds.
"Erin? Are you all right, Erin?" she asked. Then she saw me standing there with my blouse open. "Oh," she said. "That happened quicker than I expected." She walked behind me and slipped my blouse off. Then she unclasped my bra, and I felt a surge of release as the unfamiliar weight settled in front of me.
I spun around, still topless, and snatched my blouse from her. "What do you mean, you expected this?!?" I said. I had to wait until my boobs settled after my spin to slip my arms into my blouse. Unfortunately, my boobs had swelled beyond my ability to even pull my blouse together, let alone attempt to button it.
Gail checked the settings on my chair, then nodded. "Yes, the growth happened quicker than I expected, but this is still new technology, so there's going to be a learning curve, I suppose." She looked over at me. "To put it simply, Erin, you're what we call a PIA...a pain in the ass. Your tantrum last week was so disruptive that over a dozen passengers complained. Well, this is our new system for dealing with PIAs. It's actually used mainly to calm down passengers who have been drinking or rowdy teenagers, but it works on demanding, self-obsessed bitches as well."
I flushed at her description of me. "How dare you...!"
Gail cut me off with a gesture. "You know damn well it's true, Erin. Now, for the last half-hour, this chair has been aligning your biorhythms in ways I can't explain, since I don't understand the science of it myself. The bottom line is, your biorhythms are now aligned to the clacking of the train's wheels. Long story short, whenever you are on a train, any train, certain...changes will occur. Changes that you can't stop."
