The Wheels on the Bus, Part Two
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For anyone who read my last column (which, by the way, thanks to all three of you), you may remember me lamenting my recent 32 hour trip on a Greyhound bus. For those of you who didn’t read it (a.k.a. the rest of the population), let’s just sum it up by saying I’m extremely proud of myself I didn’t kill anyone by the time I made it to my destination.
Seriously.
However, one column was just not enough space to truly capture the soul-crushing experience that is public transportation.
And so I present to you part two of my journey, which contains excerpts from the journal I kept while on the road.
Wednesday
10 p.m.: Board my first bus of the trip in Victoria. Extremely crowded and noisy. But don’t care as am excited to start my adventure.
10:30 p.m.: Can’t help but wonder why people next to me are eating fried chicken and throwing the bones at my feet. Guess everyone was right about the colorful characters I’m bound to meet.
Thursday
Midnight: Have arrived in Houston. Ask lady behind bus depot counter for info on my next bus. Receive the stink eye and a grunt in response. Barely boarded on time.
4 a.m.: Arrive in Dallas bus depot. Am scared for life. Was propositioned by a hooker that may or may not be female.
Go to the restroom and vow not to eat or drink for remainder of trip.
6 a.m.: Am woken up on the bus to Tulsa by Wayne, a tone deaf bisexual teenager, singing “All My Exes Live in Texas” at the top of his lungs. Asian man laying down next to me has his rear on my lap.
9:15 a.m.: Five minute stop in Podunk, Okla. Wayne is still singing.
11:47 a.m.: Ten minute stop in Hickville, Mo. My iPod has given out. Wondering if can strangle self with headphone cords seeing as how Wayne is still freaking singing (none other than “Achy, Breaky Heart,” mind you).
6 p.m.: Have been riding for four hours straight. My entire body feels like it has been put in a vice grip. Wayne finally stopped singing but now is relaying to the entire bus the history of his sexual conquests (in graphic detail).
Friday
Midnight: Have not slept, ate, drank, showered or brushed my teeth in over 24 hours. Large, sweaty man sitting next to me wants to “chat.” I growl at him and give him the stink eye.
2:27 a.m.: Race riot almost breaks out in back of bus after tattooed redneck woman accuses big black man of trying to steal her cell phone. Bus driver kicks off black guy because he is drunk.
Wayne feels this is an injustice considering he claims he is (and I quote) “an albino black man” and continues to scream about racism until we reach Indianapolis.
4 a.m.: Short break in Indianapolis. Bus driver Sam asks me out. I kindly decline but am flattered considering I probably smell like the Dallas bus depot restroom at this point.
6 a.m.: Finally arrive at destination in Ohio. Kiss the ground as get off bus, but then quickly regret it once I get better look at the floor.
Note to self: Get tetanus shot ASAP.
Cousin who picks me up at the depot sprays me down with Febreze before letting me in the car.
6:32 a.m.: Have arrived at cousin’s house. Immediately get online and buy one-way ticket back to Texas. God bless Delta airlines.
Aprill Brandon is a reporter for the Advocate. Contact her at 361-580-6514 or abrandon@vicad.com, or comment on this story at www.VictoriaAdvocate.com.
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I enjoyed riding vicariously along with Aprill on her trip. Glad she had a part two.
July 18, 2008 at 8:40 p.m.As far as any labels or being intolerant, that's crazy. So you can't call a drunk a drunk these days? Come on! PC terms aren't needed.
Thanks Aprill for the dose of reality with great humor.
Sounds to me like Joe doesn't know spit. I reread the story just to make sure I hadn't missed some secret prejudicial statements and nope, just as I suspected, there weren't any. So, joeknows, what exactly is your objection to the descriptions of people in the story? What, SPECIFICALLY, makes you call them racist/prejudicial/judgmental/labelist? Please enlighten me cause I'm missing it. It seems to me like you were searching for something to object to and complain about and when you found nothing, ya just pulled something out of your arse.
July 18, 2008 at 12:55 p.m.And Aprill, please no more bus rides. I am traumatized just from reading the stories. :)
April, April...you should have called me before buying the bus ticket. I'd have tried to talk you out of the trip. It has been decades since my last bus trip, but from reading about yours, things have not changed.
July 18, 2008 at 12:09 p.m.JoeKnows,
July 18, 2008 at 11:58 a.m.By all means I was not intolerant of anyone due to their gender, race, background, sexual preference or any other "category." But after 32 hours on a bus, I did become intolerant of anyone who was acting stupid on the bus, regardless of who they were.
By no means did I mean the article to come off as prejudice or intolerant. I was just giving descriptions of the people to highlight the diversity you find on a bus.
Sounds like little Ms. Brandon has a category or label for everyone using public transportation. Sounds as though she was offended by each of these as well.......they have a word for those whom are so jugdemental and intolerant...sounded like a high school newspaper article
July 18, 2008 at 11:33 a.m.April, you can add #4 to your list of readers. This is a great story.
July 16, 2008 at 9:04 a.m.I personally have never rode the bus but had a buddy of mine, back in our drinking days (way back), who got left in Luling on the way back from Austin (this is story for another time) and rode the bus from there. Took something like 8 hours!! It stopped at every town between here and there.
A few years ago I picked up my now "ex" mother-in-law at the Amtrak station in SA. I never rode a train before and thought it might be a neat experience so we ended up talking to the engineer and he basicly talked us out of it saying it was one step above riding the bus!! He actually said "ya'll are white, you need to fly".