Professional railroader. Amateur escape artist. Tuna connoisseur.
Jamaica Dominick has worked at the railroad so long, the locomotives nod respectfully when he walks by. He pulls shifts that would make a time clock cry, and still shows up the next day like the laws of sleep don't apply to him. No one’s quite sure what powers him — some say it's grit, others say it’s pure spite — but the real answer is probably tuna sandwiches.
Despite being fiercely dedicated to his job, he is notorious for one thing: bailing on coffee. Birthday parties, meetings, once even his own surprise promotion ceremony — if there's even a whiff of coffee brewing, he's gone like a train at MAS. No goodbye. No explanation. Just the stench of tuna farts from where he was standing.
He’s the kind of guy who says “I’ll be right back” and is spotted three towns over, sitting alone on train tracks with his sandwich and contemplating life like a philosophical raccoon in a safety vest.