Jackpot!

Popcon Dan sent out a note the other day. Picnic in Prospect Park, folks! Come Join! Doobie and I hadn't seen Danny in almost a year, so we got all excited about this perfect opportunity for us to have a great catch up with the fella.

But heaven forbid Doobie and I ever learn to navigate Brooklyn on our own. Theoretically, the schlep to Prospect Park should have been a simple one. In theory. Just jump on the F train, and hang on for a few stops till you get there.

So Doobs and I picked up a bottle of wine, some fruit, a couple of sandwiches, and clambered with kit and kaboodle onto the F train. Caught up in our conversation as we were, however, it's no wonder that we didn't register the train driver's announcement - that the F train would be running on the E line this weekend due to engineering works. So the train veered off in it's new direction, unbeknownst to us.

Caught in what must have been a rivetting conversation as we were, it's also no wonder that we only picked this up about 10 stops down the line. Suddenly, one of us mentioned, "these stops aren't looking familiar, are they?"
So I headed over to the train map in the cabin. It took us a long time to locate where we actually were - but then we finally did - right at the opposite end of Brooklyn than where we needed to be.

A young chap listening to our consternation and understanding clearly what we had done, kindly offered to help. "What you need to do is take this train to Utica, then change to the opposite platform, and take the train back to Franklin. Then change to the shuttle which will take you to Prospect Park." We blinked at him blankly.
Sigh. "Don't worry, I'll tell you when we reach the station you need to change."

And, bless his heart, he did. So we got off at Utica and changed to the opposite platform, just like he told us. A train pulled in to the platform, and we excitedly jumped on it. He had forgotten to tell us to watch out for Express trains, however. And so it turned out (inevitably) that we entered an express train that didn't stop at the next five stops. In silent horror, we watched outselves speed past Franklin at 60 mph. Crap! Now what!

We ended up at stop which seemed to be a pretty major hub. "Let's try changing to the G train" I suggested, I think it goes to the park. So we made our way over to the G train, just as it was pulling into the platform. About to get on the train, when it occured to us that it might be helpful to double-check with the official on the platform.
"Excuse me sir, does this train go to Prospect Park?"
"The G train? yeah. But you need to cross the platform and take the one headed in the opposite direction!"
Thank gawd we asked. Otherwise back to nether Brooklyn it would have been.

So in any case, with several wrong trains and turns under our belt, we eventually found ourselves by Prospect Park, only two hours later than originally intended. Finally located (with similar directional ineptitude) the spot where Popcorn Dan had indicated the picnic would be.

And we couldn't find him anywhere. There were many, many picnic groups in the area, but no sign of Popcorn Dan. After all that faffing around on the trains, there was no sign of Dan.
"Do you have his number?"
"No, do you?"
And suddenly we were taken back to the days of how we all had to slum it before the world of cellphones. After half an hour of looking around, Doobie and I, admittedly tired, cranky and hungry, decided to lay open our own picnic. Spread out our mat, poured ourselves some wine, started munching through the grapes. It was a beautiful day, cool and breezy, and we began to relax and adjust to the reality of a picnic by ourselves.

"Between the trains and not finding Popcorn Dan, I dont' think today's the kind of day we should bother with the lottery," I told Doobs.

There was a high risk that the day would amount to Doobs and me faffing around on the subway system for 2 hours, only to have a picnic by ourselves in Prospect Park. Quite frustrating when you think about it.

When suddenly Doobs had an idea. "I know! Let's call Mrs. Pooks and get Popcorn Dan's number from her!"
D'oh.
So we finally got his number, called him excitedly, and what do you know it, it went to voicemail.
"Popcorn Dan! We're here! and we can't find you!" we left a message.
And continued our picnic-a-deux.
And poured ourselves more wine.
And munched through more grapes.
And started into our sandwiches.
It was just coming to the time when we were thinking of packing up our stuff, when who should we see sauntering over? Popcorn Dan!
"Hey girls," he said warmly, "got your voicemail, so I thought I'd come over and find you!"

Fond hugs were exchanged all around, and we scrambled with all our stuff to join Popcorn Dan's picnic. And what a beautiful picnic it was! We got to meet his lady-friend, and some of his other friends, and more than anything, just got to catch up with Popcorn Dan himself! "What's been going on with you?"
"You wouldn't believe what happened last month, Delta and I got married!"
"Hey I'm going to university right next to where you guys live!"
"Hey I can't believe we don't catch up more often!"
Words spilling out of us faster than we could control them, thoughts interrupting each other in our excitement.
And all of a sudden, it turned into a wonderful, wonderful day.

Maybe we should have played the lottery after all.