I walked to the train station to see when Amtrak was leaving. 12:22am that night and then 6:10am the next morning. That wasn't looking good. Well, if the doors open for the show at 7:pm and there are only two bands, then there might be a chance that the show would end by midnight...

I was going over this with the Amtrak saleswoman, trying to decide if I really wanted to buy a ticket or not. I could buy a ticket for $11 on the midnight train, no markup from the conductor, but then I wouldn't be able to get my large discount for being a Triple-A member.

"I can sell you a ticket that's good for the 12 o'clock and the 6 o'clock and the 8' o'clock, whichever you can take," she finally said.

I thought hard about that one. If I missed the 12 o'clock and had to go back to Matt's to sleep, there'd be no way I could wake up in time for the early trains, leaving me with a non-refundable ticket that I could use late Sunday night, giving me an extra day to waste in Providence. The way my afternoon was going, I wasn't really looking forward to doing that.

I bought the damn ticket for $9. It's good on any trip from Providence to Boston during Amtrak's off hours from now until the end of September.

I decided to spend the next two hours walking and jogging across Kennedy Plaza since the rain had lifted up, finding and timing the best route from the Met Cafe to the train station. There were a few routes that might have been good, but I wouldn't try running up slippery concrete steps in the dark. I got the time down to seven minutes, six if one of the traffic lights was in my favor.

The rain started up again, and then I needed to waste two more hours until the doors at the Met opened.