LIRR Excursion: Babylon

For this adventure, my original intent was to find the beach. I bought a ticket to Bay Shore because on the map, it looks as if from there, you can catch a ferry to a beach that might be less crowded than one closer to the city.

On the train, I read the map and realized that in Bay Shore, the ferry was not in walking distance of the train and that I should have bought at ticket to Patchogue instead, but none of that mattered anyway because there wasn’t going to be a Montauk-bound train until much later in the afternoon.

I then noticed a tiny line on the map that indicated a seasonal beach-bound bus from Babylon to Fire Island.

I arrived in Babylon and had a conversation with the station attendant.

“Hello, is there a bus that will take me to a beach?”
“The BEACH?” His tone insinuated I was obviously on some kind of crazy adventure or something, and I clearly don’t know where I am or where I’m going.
“Yes.”
“No, no bus. You can take a cab.”
“When’s the next train toward Montauk?”
“Montauk!! Uh, let’s see. Not until 9:30 this evening.”
“Thanks!”

I was not disappointed by this piece of information. I took to the streets of Babylon!



It was then I saw a sign that read Babylon Harbor, Restaurants, Bathing Beach and underneath the words was a golden arrow.

The arrow led me on twisted tour of Babylon’s residential sidewalks. A young fellow in a truck pulled over and asked me if I knew what Lighthouse Road was. I did not. Was that a trick question? Babylon must be a portal to a dimension where we are all oscillating searchlights??

I found the Harbor. I walked past a few seafood restaurants that I would have enjoyed had I a pretty penny. As I walked towards the edge of the docks, a spindly figure sauntered towards me. Actually, he was walking directly towards me! It was a youth with oily brown hair that he flipped out of the way of his face so that he could see. This young devil was sporting an oversized black t-shirt and when he smiled, the sun reflected off of the reconstructive metal in his mouth!

“Hey!” His gaze was almost fetching.
“Hello.”
“How was school?”
“What.”
“School!” He pointed at my backpack.

If this had been an improv scene, I would have played along.

Why did I not play with this pubescent swinger? This kid’s dad probably has a fishing boat with a net full of innocent and unnasuming women.

So, all I said was, “I graduated.”