the illusion of vacancy

12/16/07:

I get to the station and realize that my ticket was left in a book left at l's house. Panic ensues. Greyhound ticket policies are explained. $13 in fees are charged for using the credit card of a non-passenger. It is hectic. It is expensive. But most importantly, I am on the 3pm heading back home.

As I rush onto the bus, there are scattered empty seats throughout. I'm holding out for the back. The second row from the back is my sweet spot. That's a little dramatic but I like it there. It's already semi-occupied so I'll have to share. As I set my belongings to the floor, I notice a very large man with an even bigger bag in the very last row. Both are enormous and its hard to tell where one starts and the other begins. This spot, somewhere in between the bathroom nook and the window is made up of three seats. This man and his belongings have taken up all of them.

Three Spanish gentlemen walk towards the back of the bus, the driver helping them to find seats. She looks in the direction of the back and notices the man taking up the entire back row. They make eye contact. She places the three men elsewhere, re-arranging other travelers in order to accommodate.

The night prior I had realized something before drifting off to bed. It became clear to me that I would never own a record store. I haven't been thinking about opening one nor had I ever looked into it as a plausible possibility. But late at night, conceptualizing my future and life's work, it had struck me that record store proprietor was not in the cards. On that evenings bus ride, something else became abundantly clear.

I will never be someone that could take up three seats on a crowded bus and have no questions be asked of me. These are our lots in life...let us never forget them.