There’s something oddly charming about a train on New Year’s Day. The cars are half-empty. People are quiet, clutching coffee cups like holy relics. No one is rushing. The usual pre-work panic is replaced by a collective, silent agreement: we all made bad decisions last night, and that’s okay. It’s one of the few days where the train feels less like a commute and more like a shared, slightly weary pilgrimage. You’ll see a woman in a sequin dress eating a bagel, a man in pajama pants reading a newspaper, and a kid with a party horn who refuses to stop honking it. It’s weirdly beautiful.
So, do trains run on New Year’s Day? Yes, like a sleepy, slightly grumpy but dependable friend who shows up even though they partied too hard. They run slower, less often, and with a high chance of a 45-minute delay in a tunnel. But they run. And honestly? In a world that mostly pauses for a massive, collective hangover, that little train chugging along at 11:03 AM is a quiet, diesel-powered hero. Now, go check that schedule. Your future, slightly hungover self will thank you.
