I left Westlake Station at 3:55 p.m.; the train ran for just under three minutes; it took me two minutes to get out of the Capitol Hill Station (and this was with a crowd that contained many children!); and a one-minute walk to Cure, a lovely little concrete, cheese, and charcuterie place across the street from Cal Anderson Park. I ordered a glass of white wine. And I was so bloody happy (the speed, the people on the soccer field, the urban), I almost cried into my wine. The joy of tears and wine—the long transportation nightmare had ended for me.