Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Bussing It Part 3: The Final 15-Hour Stretch




It could've been worse. Awful Freakin' Story. :(


It's true. The last leg of my bus trip was about 15 hours (maybe longer.) I met some nice peeps in the Dallas station. So at least, I kind of knew the type of person I was sitting next to.

This is the what happens when you "Go Greyhound"...you're all in the same boat (or should I say "bus?" - ha! *sigh*), so you talk to complete strangers about everything and anything. I was chatting with a new buddy also traveling from Austin to Nashville about SXSW, my desire to have babies this year, and even bad drivers in Massachusetts.

Next thing I know, this good-looking musician-type turns around and starts talking to us. Turns out, he was in Austin playing with a band and he was traveling all the way to Boston - where he lives. Weird-o-rooni.

So, he gives me his CD, and my other buddy and I get in line for the bus. Sure enough, the good-looking musician is on our bus, which was amusing. I tried to think of single friends I could hook him up with, because apparently, I'm a matchmaker.

PS. If you're single and like hot music boys - do NOT miss SXSW. It's Spring Break without the douchebags. Well, I'm sure some are douchebags, but you can't tell on the surface. Whatever the fuck that's supposed to mean ;).

Later on, I looked up this dude's band. Turns out his band plays a lot of shows with my friend's band; a friend from high school that I reunited with at SXSW! Is your mind blown yet? Mine was. Small World.

Now, we're on our way and as I finally start to fall asleep, the bus pulls over and someone says, "We caught a flat y'all." Luckily, that was a false alarm.

You could tell this driver was not in the mood for any funny business, and we had some "characters" on this ride. It seemed like we were picking up more Sketchy Sketchersons with each stop.

I loved this driver. Mostly because I felt safe with him behind the wheel and I felt like he'd cut a bitch if anyone messed with me. I also liked how he pronounced Arkansas as Are-Kansas(/ɑrˈkænzəs/ ar-KAN-zəs - Thanks Wikipedia!).

The driver left the bus for a minute, and when he came back on, he made an announcement that we'd be stopping in a few minutes for a break. As he said that, he noticed that someone must have smoked in the bathroom while he was gone - big no-no.

"I see one of you couldn't wait. Had to have that cigarette. Let me catch you...Let me catch you." Next, we had to get off at a McDonald's (that's what she said, giggity) and I ended up walking in next to a dude in do-rag who seemed nice enough, but definitely thuggish ruggish.

"Damn, I shoulda sat next to you" he said from behind me. I awkwardly smirked and quickly made my way to the restroom to put on some makeup and attempt to brush my teeth with those WISP things.

A mother with the cutest little chubby son and a precious baby girl changed them on the sink next to me. "Uh, there's a table in the handicap bathroom, you know?," someone said. Mom ignored. Really, is there anything more uncomfortable than someone's child staring at you and trying to grab your hair? Oh yes there is, when that child is naked.

Yeah, it was probably a poor decision to "get ready" after I had just got semi-hit on by Easy-E, but I'm not one to repel compliments. Bring it, homeboy.

Hours later, while pulling into the Memphis station, my fave driver asked everyone to pay attention and started giving details about what was going to happen at the Memphis stop: reboarding, "connections," don't stand up until the bus stops moving, etc, etc. Of course, everyone talked over him, and this did NOT make him happy.

You could see his eyes glaring in the rear view mirror at my Do-rag boyfriend and his bus buddy. As soon the driver was done with his spiel, some lady who I had been observing since Austin (and found quite annoying) starts asking questions that the driver JUST answered.

"If you were listening, you'd know the answer to that," he said. We pulled into the Memphis station, and one of the "bad kids" on the bus stood up, when the driver specifically said to wait. The evil stare crept into the rear-view again, to which the kid responded, "What's he gonna do, kick me off the bus? This is my stop." Bad kid, you're a complete dick. Grow up!

Allllllmost - all we needed was to reboard and I'd be in Nashville in 4 hours or so. In the station, a group of us gathered around a secret outlet to charge our phones. One of the guys I talked to told me to be careful of Do-rag man.

He had befriended him at a stop and Do-rag told him to get his phone so they could exchange numbers or something. When he came back, the iPod that he had been charging was gone. Nobody knew where it went. How could you, Do-Rag?

We reboarded and we got a real gem of a driver to Nashville. She was loud, spunky, and would send "Bubba" to get you if you misbehaved. I thought she was a riot, sizing people up and down, looking for trouble-makers, yelling at that mother from the McDonald's bathroom because her adorable chubby son was getting a bit rambunctious.

"I tried to keep my peace, but you need to quiet those babies down."

Before you knew it, well actually, way after I planned to be, I was back in Nashville. Seeing those highway signs was like seeing DisneyWorld signs on family trips from back in the day. I tracked the minutes to escape using Google Maps, and debarked my sweet vessel.

Do-rag let me out with a "See Ya, Lil' Mama." I like lil' mama. That's hot. I bid farewell to my dear friends, and waited for Guy to come pick me up.

I watched good-looking musician get in line to get on yet another bus (poor fella), and also kept an eye on someone's phone while I waited. Guy showed up, and the guy whose phone I was watching wasn't back yet. Guy had to stand with me at the charging station until he came back. I just couldn't get away.

"God, is that what every station is like?," Guy said. I just looked at him. I didn't have the energy to get into it.

We stopped at Taco Bell on the way home, because I think after going through all of that and not eating for 13 hours, I deserve a freakin' quesadilla! Actually, if you read through this ridiculousness, you deserve one too. (I feel required to give you the nutritional info: 28g of fat, 490 calories - OMG!)


Go Greyhound on your next vacation! www.greyhound.com

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