On behalf of the greyblog, we do not approve this article.
http://http://travel.nytimes.com/2008/09/26/travel/escapes/26bus.html?pagewanted=1&em
Friday, September 26, 2008
Thursday, August 7, 2008
it's like they've never read this blog
Greyhound pulls 'bus rage' ads
Becky Rynor, Canwest News Service
Published: Tuesday, August 05, 2008
Greyhound Canada said Tuesday that it is in the process of pulling a series of ads in an extensive, cross-country campaign featuring the slogan, "There's a reason you've never heard of bus rage."
The company made the move in response to last week's gruesome beheading murder on an eastbound Greyhound bus near Portage la Prairie, Man., which claimed the life of Tim McLean, 22.
"We just felt, in light of the recent incident, it could be a very offensive message and we didn't think it was appropriate for it to be run any longer," said Greyhound Canada spokeswoman, Abby Wambaugh.
Undated handout proof of one of Greyhound's ads that the bus company recently pulled. The company made the move in response to the gruesome beheading murder on an eastbound Greyhound bus near Portage la Prairie, Man., which claimed the life of 22-year-old Tim McLean July 30, 2008.
The campaign included posters and ads in handbooks at universities and at the Alberta summer games. It used the slogan, "There's a reason you've never heard of bus rage," intending to encourage commuters to avoid the stresses of highway driving by taking the bus.
"(The ad) was saying you don't have to be behind the wheel, you don't have to be in the traffic, you can sit back and let someone else do the driving for you," Wambaugh said.
"It was aimed at potential and current Greyhound ridership. We don't think it's an appropriate slogan anymore, and that is why we've chosen to remove it."
Last week's horrific attack has resulted in a growing number of calls for beefed-up safety on intercity buses.
By late Tuesday, an online petition had gathered more than 600 signatures, demanding Greyhound improve its security.
"That was the bus I always take to go visit my parents in Manitoba and would like something to be done about this," wrote Melanie Schwarz on her posting to the petition. "This is not Greyhound's fault but now maybe its time to prevent it from anything like that happening again."
" . . . can't more security be legislated/mandated?" wrote D. McCoy. "It doesn't make any sense that there is more security getting into a night club than there is to ride a bus across the country!"
Janine King also signed the petition and wrote, "Greyhound needs to review its security measures to ensure that this never happens to another passenger. Please, for Tim's memory, something needs to be done."
Wambaugh said Greyhound Canada has been working with Transport Canada for the past 18 months to determine what security measures would be most effective for intercity bus companies.
But given the "rural nature of our network, airport-style security such as X-ray machines would not be practical," she said.
Wambaugh said Greyhound operates under an "open" system, while airports operate under a "closed" system.
"You get on a bus and it makes many stops along the way and everybody on the bus is free to come and go," she said.
"I believe we have around 600 locations in Canada and many of those are rural locations. A lot of them aren't even Greyhound terminals. They would be what we call agencies, which means we contract with a business and they operate as a Greyhound bus stop or ticket agent on our behalf. So that's very different, as well, from an airport."
She said that since 2003, the Department of Homeland Security has given Greyhound more than $16 million in grants to implement security improvements, such as random "wandings" with metal detectors.
"We're working with Transport Canada and we are hoping for funding from them, as well," Wambaugh said.
"As far as security goes, this was an incident that we were very shocked and saddened by. We do still believe that it was truly an isolated incident. Nothing could have prepared us for what occurred."
Becky Rynor, Canwest News Service
Published: Tuesday, August 05, 2008
Greyhound Canada said Tuesday that it is in the process of pulling a series of ads in an extensive, cross-country campaign featuring the slogan, "There's a reason you've never heard of bus rage."
The company made the move in response to last week's gruesome beheading murder on an eastbound Greyhound bus near Portage la Prairie, Man., which claimed the life of Tim McLean, 22.
"We just felt, in light of the recent incident, it could be a very offensive message and we didn't think it was appropriate for it to be run any longer," said Greyhound Canada spokeswoman, Abby Wambaugh.
Undated handout proof of one of Greyhound's ads that the bus company recently pulled. The company made the move in response to the gruesome beheading murder on an eastbound Greyhound bus near Portage la Prairie, Man., which claimed the life of 22-year-old Tim McLean July 30, 2008.
The campaign included posters and ads in handbooks at universities and at the Alberta summer games. It used the slogan, "There's a reason you've never heard of bus rage," intending to encourage commuters to avoid the stresses of highway driving by taking the bus.
"(The ad) was saying you don't have to be behind the wheel, you don't have to be in the traffic, you can sit back and let someone else do the driving for you," Wambaugh said.
"It was aimed at potential and current Greyhound ridership. We don't think it's an appropriate slogan anymore, and that is why we've chosen to remove it."
Last week's horrific attack has resulted in a growing number of calls for beefed-up safety on intercity buses.
By late Tuesday, an online petition had gathered more than 600 signatures, demanding Greyhound improve its security.
"That was the bus I always take to go visit my parents in Manitoba and would like something to be done about this," wrote Melanie Schwarz on her posting to the petition. "This is not Greyhound's fault but now maybe its time to prevent it from anything like that happening again."
" . . . can't more security be legislated/mandated?" wrote D. McCoy. "It doesn't make any sense that there is more security getting into a night club than there is to ride a bus across the country!"
Janine King also signed the petition and wrote, "Greyhound needs to review its security measures to ensure that this never happens to another passenger. Please, for Tim's memory, something needs to be done."
Wambaugh said Greyhound Canada has been working with Transport Canada for the past 18 months to determine what security measures would be most effective for intercity bus companies.
But given the "rural nature of our network, airport-style security such as X-ray machines would not be practical," she said.
Wambaugh said Greyhound operates under an "open" system, while airports operate under a "closed" system.
"You get on a bus and it makes many stops along the way and everybody on the bus is free to come and go," she said.
"I believe we have around 600 locations in Canada and many of those are rural locations. A lot of them aren't even Greyhound terminals. They would be what we call agencies, which means we contract with a business and they operate as a Greyhound bus stop or ticket agent on our behalf. So that's very different, as well, from an airport."
She said that since 2003, the Department of Homeland Security has given Greyhound more than $16 million in grants to implement security improvements, such as random "wandings" with metal detectors.
"We're working with Transport Canada and we are hoping for funding from them, as well," Wambaugh said.
"As far as security goes, this was an incident that we were very shocked and saddened by. We do still believe that it was truly an isolated incident. Nothing could have prepared us for what occurred."
Thursday, July 31, 2008
there are no words.
Bus passenger beheaded seat mate, witness says
From CNN.com
As horrified travelers watched, a Greyhound Canada bus passenger repeatedly stabbed and then decapitated a young man who was sitting and sleeping beside him, a witness said Thursday.
Police officers and cars surround the bus near Portage la Prairie, Canada, on Wednesday night.
"There was a bloodcurdling scream. I was just reading my book, and all of a sudden, I heard it," Garnet Caton, who was sitting in front of the two men, said of the Wednesday night incident west of Portage la Prairie in Manitoba.
"It was like something between a dog howling and a baby crying, I guess you could say," Caton said. "I don't think it will leave me for a while."
Passengers exited the bus, and a trucker who stopped provided wrenches and crowbars to several of them so they could keep the suspect on the bus until police came, witnesses told Canadian TV.
The suspect was seized with the help of negotiators, Royal Canadian Mounted Police Sgt. Steve Colwell said.
He said no formal charges had been filed, and he declined to identify either the man in custody or the victim, who were among 34 passengers.
The was no immediate indication of what prompted the attack, Colwell said. He said he didn't know how many times the victim was stabbed. Witnesses described the weapon as a large butcher-type knife.
Caton told The Associated Press that the victim appeared to be about 19 years old and had gotten on the bus in Edmonton.
Colwell praised the "extraordinary" level-headedness and bravery of the bus driver and passengers.
"What you saw and what you experienced would shake the most seasoned police officer. And yet I'm told that each of you acted swiftly, calmly and bravely," Colwell said. "As a result, no one else was injured."
The police received a call reporting the attack at 8:30 p.m. By the time they arrived at the scene, everyone except the knife-wielder and his victim had left the bus, Colwell said. The incident ended about 1:30 a.m.
The bus was traveling along the Trans-Canada Highway from Edmonton, Alberta, to Winnipeg, Manitoba, and was about 45 minutes from its destination when the attack occurred, Greyhound spokeswoman Abby Wambaugh said in Dallas, Texas.
Caton said the victim was sleeping with his head leaning against the window when the attack happened. Caton said he shouted at the other passengers, many of whom also were sleeping, to leave. Watch Caton describe what he saw »
"Everybody got off the bus. Me and a trucker that stopped and the Greyhound driver ran up to the door to maybe see if the guy was still alive or we could help or something like that," Caton said.
"And when we all got up, we saw that the guy was cutting off the guy's head. ... When he saw us, he came back to the front of the bus, told the driver to shut the door. He pressed the button and the door shut, but it didn't shut in time, and the guy was able to get his knife out and take a swipe at us," Caton said.
Caton told the AP that the attacker didn't sit near the victim when he first got on the bus, about an hour before the attack.
"He sat in the front at first; everything was normal," Caton said. "We went to the next stop, and he got off and had a smoke with another young lady there. When he got on the bus again, he came to the back near where I was sitting. He put his bags in the overhead compartment. He didn't say a word to anybody. He seemed totally normal."
Half an hour later, the attack began, Caton told the AP. "There was no rage or anything. He was like a robot, stabbing the guy."
The incident occurred on the first of two Greyhound Canada buses that were traveling together, Wambaugh said. The bus was carrying 37 passengers. As many passengers as possible among those not directly involved in the incident were transferred to the second bus, she said.
Others were taken to a hotel in Brandon, where they were met by Greyhound managers and police, Wambaugh said.
Once they are released, Greyhound will take them by bus to Winnipeg, and "we will do whatever is required to help them, and that includes counseling," she added.
Wambaugh declined to comment further.
"I don't want to compromise the investigation," she said.
From CNN.com
As horrified travelers watched, a Greyhound Canada bus passenger repeatedly stabbed and then decapitated a young man who was sitting and sleeping beside him, a witness said Thursday.
Police officers and cars surround the bus near Portage la Prairie, Canada, on Wednesday night.
"There was a bloodcurdling scream. I was just reading my book, and all of a sudden, I heard it," Garnet Caton, who was sitting in front of the two men, said of the Wednesday night incident west of Portage la Prairie in Manitoba.
"It was like something between a dog howling and a baby crying, I guess you could say," Caton said. "I don't think it will leave me for a while."
Passengers exited the bus, and a trucker who stopped provided wrenches and crowbars to several of them so they could keep the suspect on the bus until police came, witnesses told Canadian TV.
The suspect was seized with the help of negotiators, Royal Canadian Mounted Police Sgt. Steve Colwell said.
He said no formal charges had been filed, and he declined to identify either the man in custody or the victim, who were among 34 passengers.
The was no immediate indication of what prompted the attack, Colwell said. He said he didn't know how many times the victim was stabbed. Witnesses described the weapon as a large butcher-type knife.
Caton told The Associated Press that the victim appeared to be about 19 years old and had gotten on the bus in Edmonton.
Colwell praised the "extraordinary" level-headedness and bravery of the bus driver and passengers.
"What you saw and what you experienced would shake the most seasoned police officer. And yet I'm told that each of you acted swiftly, calmly and bravely," Colwell said. "As a result, no one else was injured."
The police received a call reporting the attack at 8:30 p.m. By the time they arrived at the scene, everyone except the knife-wielder and his victim had left the bus, Colwell said. The incident ended about 1:30 a.m.
The bus was traveling along the Trans-Canada Highway from Edmonton, Alberta, to Winnipeg, Manitoba, and was about 45 minutes from its destination when the attack occurred, Greyhound spokeswoman Abby Wambaugh said in Dallas, Texas.
Caton said the victim was sleeping with his head leaning against the window when the attack happened. Caton said he shouted at the other passengers, many of whom also were sleeping, to leave. Watch Caton describe what he saw »
"Everybody got off the bus. Me and a trucker that stopped and the Greyhound driver ran up to the door to maybe see if the guy was still alive or we could help or something like that," Caton said.
"And when we all got up, we saw that the guy was cutting off the guy's head. ... When he saw us, he came back to the front of the bus, told the driver to shut the door. He pressed the button and the door shut, but it didn't shut in time, and the guy was able to get his knife out and take a swipe at us," Caton said.
Caton told the AP that the attacker didn't sit near the victim when he first got on the bus, about an hour before the attack.
"He sat in the front at first; everything was normal," Caton said. "We went to the next stop, and he got off and had a smoke with another young lady there. When he got on the bus again, he came to the back near where I was sitting. He put his bags in the overhead compartment. He didn't say a word to anybody. He seemed totally normal."
Half an hour later, the attack began, Caton told the AP. "There was no rage or anything. He was like a robot, stabbing the guy."
The incident occurred on the first of two Greyhound Canada buses that were traveling together, Wambaugh said. The bus was carrying 37 passengers. As many passengers as possible among those not directly involved in the incident were transferred to the second bus, she said.
Others were taken to a hotel in Brandon, where they were met by Greyhound managers and police, Wambaugh said.
Once they are released, Greyhound will take them by bus to Winnipeg, and "we will do whatever is required to help them, and that includes counseling," she added.
Wambaugh declined to comment further.
"I don't want to compromise the investigation," she said.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Mediocre
Friday, 4:00 bus to DC.
The ticket kiosks are out of order. I have to wait on a short line for the Will-Call tickets. A man in the general ticket-buying line tells me that I should wait on line because he had to wait on line. We are next to eachother. I am in a separate short line, and he is in a looping wrap-around long line. He says that I shouldn't be allowed to cut the fucking line. He says this to me again and again. I am not even looking at him. I normally avoid confrontational strangers, but he kept going on and on. I told him that I am on the Will-Call line, and he did not understand. I told him that I did not cut him on line, and he could read the fucking sign that said this was the Will-Call line. He was quiet. I normally ignore people like him who are obviously wrong and cranky, but I was already angry that the kiosks were broken. He stared at me the rest of the time I was on line. I got my ticket before him, and I smiled meanly when I walked away. I hoped that he wasn't going to DC.
The 4:00 to Silver Spring arrives, people board. People wonder if they should get on or wait for the 4:30 Express. I text Matt to see what he thinks. I decide to wait. The bus leaves 9 minutes early. Several Silver Springers arrive after bus departs and are confused/angry. One girl missed the bus, and from my before and after the bus left observation of her -- she missed it because she was waiting for a female relative to bring her McDonalds - a female relative who did not wait with her for the next Silver Spring bus -- scheduled for 6:00.
I buy a Diet Coke, and only realize two days later that I was overcharged.
I give some money to a man in a Sick of It All shirt, who claims that he needs money to get to Chicago. He didn't say thank you.
Board bus, use overhead bin. I choose a perfect seat, and was already comfortable when two women board. They want a seat together. I avoid eye contact, I text someone to give me the appearance of a busy person. They ask the woman behind me if she minded moving, so they can sit together. She thinks it's fine. I end up moving, and am not happy about it. One woman jokingly said that they won't talk the whole time. They did. One of them also moved her seat back all the way.
My seatmate is quiet and sleeps. She texts, and sleeps, and wears sunglasses. We don't talk, but I overhear her speaker-phone conversation. Her two children are staying with their grandmother, one of them needed to ice some body part, and she will be getting on a plane on Saturday to pick them up. Her phone will be fixed the next day, if she finds time.
The ride is fine. No stops. No stinks. I started and finished a book. I watched a Netflix. I texted. I studied for 2 minutes. I accidentally texted M when I meant to text P and it was about M. He called me out on it.
I get off the bus, and one of the women who made me move my seat asks me where she can get a cab. I tell her.
I announce M's address to the group of taxi-drivers. One says he will be bring me there for $20.00. I smile and laugh and think he is joking. He is not. Another driver tells me that he will bring me for $500.00. I feel uncomfortable with the $20 man still looking at me, and knowing that he knows that his other guy is making fun of him, and say that I could take the train for less than $2.00. I go with the man who said $500. It came out to 8-something. He drove so fast. I had to switch seats because my original seatbelt didn't work, and I believe he made fun of me for being scared. I then made an awkward comment about traumatic brain injuries and car accidents. We didn't speak again.
Sunday to NY. Line is short. M waits with me. I have my Washington Post, a coffee, and a water.
I have a seat-mate. He is quiet and has an arm tattoo that says "I love you." He stares out the window the whole time.
A man across from me is very annoying and reads up to Chapter 4 in a book and then calls several people to talk about it. He is loud.
A woman behind me -- who I noticed switched her seat twice before settling down behind me -- had her sneaker in my face the whole time. She put her sneaker on my arm rest. I made sure to brush my A Fig Walked into Bar fruit bar crumbs onto her sneaker. I took a cell-phone photo and texted it so someone else knew that I had to deal with a sneaker in my face. I stared at the sneaker. I wanted it to move. It did at one point, but it came back.
A couple ate McDonalds breakfast in front of me. At approximately 1:30, maybe. It smelled. So much. I texted about it. I was told through text that McDonald's breakfast stops being served at 11:00, so this was an old McMuffin. Cold, but still smelly. A total of four McMuffins and four Hash Browns.
Ride took way too long.
I studied. I texted. I read a magazine.
So much rain, so much traffic. I was angry. That sneaker woman managed to get off the bus before I did.
The ticket kiosks are out of order. I have to wait on a short line for the Will-Call tickets. A man in the general ticket-buying line tells me that I should wait on line because he had to wait on line. We are next to eachother. I am in a separate short line, and he is in a looping wrap-around long line. He says that I shouldn't be allowed to cut the fucking line. He says this to me again and again. I am not even looking at him. I normally avoid confrontational strangers, but he kept going on and on. I told him that I am on the Will-Call line, and he did not understand. I told him that I did not cut him on line, and he could read the fucking sign that said this was the Will-Call line. He was quiet. I normally ignore people like him who are obviously wrong and cranky, but I was already angry that the kiosks were broken. He stared at me the rest of the time I was on line. I got my ticket before him, and I smiled meanly when I walked away. I hoped that he wasn't going to DC.
The 4:00 to Silver Spring arrives, people board. People wonder if they should get on or wait for the 4:30 Express. I text Matt to see what he thinks. I decide to wait. The bus leaves 9 minutes early. Several Silver Springers arrive after bus departs and are confused/angry. One girl missed the bus, and from my before and after the bus left observation of her -- she missed it because she was waiting for a female relative to bring her McDonalds - a female relative who did not wait with her for the next Silver Spring bus -- scheduled for 6:00.
I buy a Diet Coke, and only realize two days later that I was overcharged.
I give some money to a man in a Sick of It All shirt, who claims that he needs money to get to Chicago. He didn't say thank you.
Board bus, use overhead bin. I choose a perfect seat, and was already comfortable when two women board. They want a seat together. I avoid eye contact, I text someone to give me the appearance of a busy person. They ask the woman behind me if she minded moving, so they can sit together. She thinks it's fine. I end up moving, and am not happy about it. One woman jokingly said that they won't talk the whole time. They did. One of them also moved her seat back all the way.
My seatmate is quiet and sleeps. She texts, and sleeps, and wears sunglasses. We don't talk, but I overhear her speaker-phone conversation. Her two children are staying with their grandmother, one of them needed to ice some body part, and she will be getting on a plane on Saturday to pick them up. Her phone will be fixed the next day, if she finds time.
The ride is fine. No stops. No stinks. I started and finished a book. I watched a Netflix. I texted. I studied for 2 minutes. I accidentally texted M when I meant to text P and it was about M. He called me out on it.
I get off the bus, and one of the women who made me move my seat asks me where she can get a cab. I tell her.
I announce M's address to the group of taxi-drivers. One says he will be bring me there for $20.00. I smile and laugh and think he is joking. He is not. Another driver tells me that he will bring me for $500.00. I feel uncomfortable with the $20 man still looking at me, and knowing that he knows that his other guy is making fun of him, and say that I could take the train for less than $2.00. I go with the man who said $500. It came out to 8-something. He drove so fast. I had to switch seats because my original seatbelt didn't work, and I believe he made fun of me for being scared. I then made an awkward comment about traumatic brain injuries and car accidents. We didn't speak again.
Sunday to NY. Line is short. M waits with me. I have my Washington Post, a coffee, and a water.
I have a seat-mate. He is quiet and has an arm tattoo that says "I love you." He stares out the window the whole time.
A man across from me is very annoying and reads up to Chapter 4 in a book and then calls several people to talk about it. He is loud.
A woman behind me -- who I noticed switched her seat twice before settling down behind me -- had her sneaker in my face the whole time. She put her sneaker on my arm rest. I made sure to brush my A Fig Walked into Bar fruit bar crumbs onto her sneaker. I took a cell-phone photo and texted it so someone else knew that I had to deal with a sneaker in my face. I stared at the sneaker. I wanted it to move. It did at one point, but it came back.
A couple ate McDonalds breakfast in front of me. At approximately 1:30, maybe. It smelled. So much. I texted about it. I was told through text that McDonald's breakfast stops being served at 11:00, so this was an old McMuffin. Cold, but still smelly. A total of four McMuffins and four Hash Browns.
Ride took way too long.
I studied. I texted. I read a magazine.
So much rain, so much traffic. I was angry. That sneaker woman managed to get off the bus before I did.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
shiftless when idle (mega-bust!)
This past week was my first and last Megabus experience. It all started innocently enough at the corner of 11th and G. Unsurprisingly, the party got off to a bumpy start that involved me sitting on a non-air conditioned bus for 30 minutes. The driver kept explaining that she couldn’t put the bus on because she got a summons for “idling” earlier today. Turns out the hold up was a gentleman on the phone with the bus company who was unsure as to whether this was his bus. I myself had a similar confusion (we’ll get to this later) but decided that 15 minutes after the bus was supposed to leave was not the appropriate time to be contacting the company and making arrangements.
I sat in the second to last row and it smelt like manure. Also, the seat/bench I was sitting on swiveled leaving me to swirl around every time the driver moved abruptly. This was a problem as I’d characterize this woman’s driving style as heavily influenced by free jazz. The bus had short bursts of power and then stopped on a dime, following no traffic pattern I’m familiar with.
The bus was filled with tourists which wasn’t really an issue until we got into the New York area and then people’s view became important. A man in front of me ate something that by its pungent odor and general shape could only be described as a cheese patty (Think beef patty/rice cake with a smell of cheese). Every time he ate one, I would look up from my book because the stench had taken hold. This happened three times. He told stories about getting ridiculed in DC about his Rangers baseball hat. If a Capitals/Rangers rivalry exists, it is not recognized by the fine sports fact gathering folks at Wikipedia making this not completely implausible but kind of suspicious. What other lies was he telling? Three very nice individuals from South Dakota sat behind me and asked me for advice on where to go. I told them to avoid Times Square and to eat at John’s Pizzeria on Bleeker. After living in New York for about two decades, these are the only suggestions I can muster up when pressed. I also told them not to trust anyone’s directions because invariably they are wrong. Only in New York!
In the scope of bus rides, the ride home was a nightmare. Cell phone use was out of control with the loudest perpetrator seated directly behind me. He seemed to be desperate to talk considering the two people he did call had not known he was in New York that weekend. He carried on basically the same conversation twice, mentioning that he had a 15 minute presentation coming up and that his work concerned Aviation and Belgium. Apparently, it’s his job to make sure Belgium turns a profit with their air travel? I am not sure. I also found it odd that the recipients of these calls did not know what this man’s job entailed, leaving me to assume once again that this man was seriously reaching out to second perhaps third string friends on this bus ride. Other things I now know about this individual include: he doesn’t like to listen (as demonstrated by his incessant yammering), he thinks that the MoMA is something to “see once and that’s it,” and he enjoys kicking the seat in front of him. At the time my mind was racing trying to wish harm upon him and his family but my rage has since subsided.
Now faithful readers I will state 5 reasons why you should boycott using the Megabus line:
1) There is no flexibility to reschedule without incurring a fee. This is currently not the case with Bolt, Greyhound, Apex or DC2NY. I paid ten dollars to change my bus for another two hours earlier.
2) They stop at rest stops in New Jersey to “change drivers.” Why this is necessary for a 5 hour trip is beyond me. How the other driver gets to this rest stop without abandoning another bus/ and how they get home is a mystery although I’m pretty sure the explanation involves the phrase “park and ride.”
3) Cell phone use is not discouraged/ drivers do not verbally shame those who do it. This is a real problem that has the potential to become an epidemic.
4) There is no way to know whether the bus you are on is express to NYC or instead stops at White Marsh Maryland. One bus I took stopped while the other did not.
5) My friend Pia missed out on seeing Wire because of their mega-incompetence. This could happen to you or YOUR friend Pia!
Please share your stories if you have them…we’re here to listen.
-m
I sat in the second to last row and it smelt like manure. Also, the seat/bench I was sitting on swiveled leaving me to swirl around every time the driver moved abruptly. This was a problem as I’d characterize this woman’s driving style as heavily influenced by free jazz. The bus had short bursts of power and then stopped on a dime, following no traffic pattern I’m familiar with.
The bus was filled with tourists which wasn’t really an issue until we got into the New York area and then people’s view became important. A man in front of me ate something that by its pungent odor and general shape could only be described as a cheese patty (Think beef patty/rice cake with a smell of cheese). Every time he ate one, I would look up from my book because the stench had taken hold. This happened three times. He told stories about getting ridiculed in DC about his Rangers baseball hat. If a Capitals/Rangers rivalry exists, it is not recognized by the fine sports fact gathering folks at Wikipedia making this not completely implausible but kind of suspicious. What other lies was he telling? Three very nice individuals from South Dakota sat behind me and asked me for advice on where to go. I told them to avoid Times Square and to eat at John’s Pizzeria on Bleeker. After living in New York for about two decades, these are the only suggestions I can muster up when pressed. I also told them not to trust anyone’s directions because invariably they are wrong. Only in New York!
In the scope of bus rides, the ride home was a nightmare. Cell phone use was out of control with the loudest perpetrator seated directly behind me. He seemed to be desperate to talk considering the two people he did call had not known he was in New York that weekend. He carried on basically the same conversation twice, mentioning that he had a 15 minute presentation coming up and that his work concerned Aviation and Belgium. Apparently, it’s his job to make sure Belgium turns a profit with their air travel? I am not sure. I also found it odd that the recipients of these calls did not know what this man’s job entailed, leaving me to assume once again that this man was seriously reaching out to second perhaps third string friends on this bus ride. Other things I now know about this individual include: he doesn’t like to listen (as demonstrated by his incessant yammering), he thinks that the MoMA is something to “see once and that’s it,” and he enjoys kicking the seat in front of him. At the time my mind was racing trying to wish harm upon him and his family but my rage has since subsided.
Now faithful readers I will state 5 reasons why you should boycott using the Megabus line:
1) There is no flexibility to reschedule without incurring a fee. This is currently not the case with Bolt, Greyhound, Apex or DC2NY. I paid ten dollars to change my bus for another two hours earlier.
2) They stop at rest stops in New Jersey to “change drivers.” Why this is necessary for a 5 hour trip is beyond me. How the other driver gets to this rest stop without abandoning another bus/ and how they get home is a mystery although I’m pretty sure the explanation involves the phrase “park and ride.”
3) Cell phone use is not discouraged/ drivers do not verbally shame those who do it. This is a real problem that has the potential to become an epidemic.
4) There is no way to know whether the bus you are on is express to NYC or instead stops at White Marsh Maryland. One bus I took stopped while the other did not.
5) My friend Pia missed out on seeing Wire because of their mega-incompetence. This could happen to you or YOUR friend Pia!
Please share your stories if you have them…we’re here to listen.
-m
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
it's all gonna break
The Friday afternoon crowd at the DC Bolt stop has provided this blog with a nice amount of fodder but last week’s events take the cake. A mass of confusion swirls upon boarding and although I am scheduled for a 3:00pm departure, I am shuffled onto a bus around 2:40. A privileged problem, I'll admit. Three blocks into our journey disaster strikes! The driver announces that the bus has broken down. This feels like an odd declaration considering its still moving and has not seeming lost any of its bus going capacities. How often does a broken down bus drive back to its journey’s starting point? Through the seats, I notice that one gentleman has already incorporated this minor tragedy into a twitter update. Thank goodness!
We arrive back at 11th to find three buses and a complete lack of functional direction. I board a bus only to find there are no seats left. People are yelling, demanding answers. Tickets are shoved in drivers’ faces while the staff argues amongst itself. Around 3:20 I have finally left DC seated next to a chatty cathy who bellows her plans and opinions in a matter usually reserved for those in promotional agreements with P.T Barnum. I am also 33% sure that at points she pretends to read her book.
The trip home came in the midst of an oppressive heat wave, part of which had temporarily transformed my knees to resemble Bunsen burners after a nail biter at Yankee stadium the afternoon prior. I cozy up to my copy of Don Delillo's White Noise in-between afternoon siestas. My seatmate is an interesting, somewhat intense older woman who wields a laptop and a box full of smelly veggies from Sbarro's. She almost exclusively reads MLB.com for the duration of the trip, a site not within my first 500 guesses of her assumed internet browsing material. She makes frequent phone calls regarding the traffic behind us, even referencing a chat she had with the driver. Apparently the bus that preceded us took an hour getting out of the Lincoln tunnel. Hearing this, I am left with an undeniable sense of Schadenfreude, patting myself on the back for prudently picking the right departure time. During one call, she states that she'll get to DC in about an hour or so but that this is just "guesswork." You have to respect this kind of professionalism within colloquial exchanges.
At some point during the trip my body realizes that it hasn’t ingested anything for about 8 hours and that it is desperately in need of nourishment. My only preparation for my journey is two ziploc bags of oatmeal cookies my mom made. The rest stop left me with dismal choices (a fast food seafood restaurant's crab pretzel left me with a mild case of existential dread) I inhale the cookies with a fervor that would embarrass those who raised me. I am pawing out crumbs, spooning them into my mouth. Some trickle down my mouth...others onto my lap. I am shoeless, eating strange looking prepared food out of plastic baggies. I come to the silent realization that no one in their right mind would choose me as a seat partner.
-m
We arrive back at 11th to find three buses and a complete lack of functional direction. I board a bus only to find there are no seats left. People are yelling, demanding answers. Tickets are shoved in drivers’ faces while the staff argues amongst itself. Around 3:20 I have finally left DC seated next to a chatty cathy who bellows her plans and opinions in a matter usually reserved for those in promotional agreements with P.T Barnum. I am also 33% sure that at points she pretends to read her book.
The trip home came in the midst of an oppressive heat wave, part of which had temporarily transformed my knees to resemble Bunsen burners after a nail biter at Yankee stadium the afternoon prior. I cozy up to my copy of Don Delillo's White Noise in-between afternoon siestas. My seatmate is an interesting, somewhat intense older woman who wields a laptop and a box full of smelly veggies from Sbarro's. She almost exclusively reads MLB.com for the duration of the trip, a site not within my first 500 guesses of her assumed internet browsing material. She makes frequent phone calls regarding the traffic behind us, even referencing a chat she had with the driver. Apparently the bus that preceded us took an hour getting out of the Lincoln tunnel. Hearing this, I am left with an undeniable sense of Schadenfreude, patting myself on the back for prudently picking the right departure time. During one call, she states that she'll get to DC in about an hour or so but that this is just "guesswork." You have to respect this kind of professionalism within colloquial exchanges.
At some point during the trip my body realizes that it hasn’t ingested anything for about 8 hours and that it is desperately in need of nourishment. My only preparation for my journey is two ziploc bags of oatmeal cookies my mom made. The rest stop left me with dismal choices (a fast food seafood restaurant's crab pretzel left me with a mild case of existential dread) I inhale the cookies with a fervor that would embarrass those who raised me. I am pawing out crumbs, spooning them into my mouth. Some trickle down my mouth...others onto my lap. I am shoeless, eating strange looking prepared food out of plastic baggies. I come to the silent realization that no one in their right mind would choose me as a seat partner.
-m
Thursday, June 5, 2008
no shoes, no service
It's Monday morning, and I am trying to make a 10 AM bus. There is a line. This is a vacation day for me, a poorly utilized one -- but a vacation day nevertheless -- what are you people doing on a bus today? I am truly surprised. I expected a quiet double-seated ride. I expected half-empty. Optimists see the bus as half-empty.
What does not surprise me is the two Out-of-Order Ticket kiosks. I am forced to wait on line, and speak to someone get my ticket printed. M holds my spot in the NY bus line. The ticket is printed, and I sign for it WITH A GREYHOUND PEN. I wanted to take the pen. Unlike hotel soap, I left it behind.
I am one of the last people on the bus. As I wait to get my ticket ripped, I eavesdrop -- but how could I not -- the driver and another person were talking directly in front of me. I wasn't even trying to not look interested. Baggage had a meeting! -- yes,apparently there are enough people working in "Baggage," perhaps overseeing the printing and stocking of the paper luggage tags to attend meetings, and meetings large enough to take place UPSTAIRS, an area in the Greyhound terminal that I did not know existed. (ed. note: L has never looked up in the terminal, apparantly) And what happened to those paper luggage tags...Baggage, come on.
I digress...
Baggage had a meeting -- and this particular driver, based on past conversations with Baggage, and the information she gleaned regarding said meeting, feels that the Hound is going to start charging for baggage ala American Airlines. I have only used the baggage hold once, so I am not worried. But Greyhound! -- stop with the extra charges already. I wish I had those meeting minutes in front of me now. I am only able to give you the slightest of information, which is just based on the feelings of someone else, who was not expressing these feelings to me, or at least not directly. Indirectly, she told me alot.
I walk on bus, gunning for a front seat.
I ask the first woman..who is sitting near the window, "Is this seat taken?" She points to a bag on the floor in front of the aisle seat.
"So someone is sitting there?" She points again. I clearly huff and puff, and sit directly across from her and her supposedly saved seat.
It's not saved. No one sits there.
I think mean things. Put the bag in the overhead. Put the bag in the baggage hold while it's still free. Put the bag at your feet. She talks on the phone, and gets reprimanded by the driver. I smile. She annoys me. She lounges. Across both seats. She takes off her shoes. M does that, everywhere, and I only deal it because I think I like the guy, but this woman's feet...I did not want them...in my face. Yes, in my face as she is lounging with her bare feet dangling into the aisle. One of her shoes slowly makes its way down the aisle, due to some sort of physics of the starts and stops of the bus. Perhaps even the forces of inertia were at play. I don't know the exact science, but it made its way pretty far down the aisle, and I hoped that it would go missing. Someone eventually picked it up, and gave it back to her. She was happy and surprised. Next time lady, keep track of your footwear. Keeping them on helps.
My seatmate slept. He was quiet. I took out a book to read, only to be disappointed when I remembered I finished the book on the bus to DC...and I finished the other book on the plane. (My flight to TEXAS was faster than Greyhound, quieter, less stinky, while I was also provided with carrots and chocolate and drinks. Where is your beverage service, Greyhound?)I watched some of Dr. Katz.
Got off bus, and made my way to class. Overall it was uneventful, full of well-directed but un-acted-on anger, and quick. No rest-stops or bathroom anecdotes to speak of.
What does not surprise me is the two Out-of-Order Ticket kiosks. I am forced to wait on line, and speak to someone get my ticket printed. M holds my spot in the NY bus line. The ticket is printed, and I sign for it WITH A GREYHOUND PEN. I wanted to take the pen. Unlike hotel soap, I left it behind.
I am one of the last people on the bus. As I wait to get my ticket ripped, I eavesdrop -- but how could I not -- the driver and another person were talking directly in front of me. I wasn't even trying to not look interested. Baggage had a meeting! -- yes,apparently there are enough people working in "Baggage," perhaps overseeing the printing and stocking of the paper luggage tags to attend meetings, and meetings large enough to take place UPSTAIRS, an area in the Greyhound terminal that I did not know existed. (ed. note: L has never looked up in the terminal, apparantly) And what happened to those paper luggage tags...Baggage, come on.
I digress...
Baggage had a meeting -- and this particular driver, based on past conversations with Baggage, and the information she gleaned regarding said meeting, feels that the Hound is going to start charging for baggage ala American Airlines. I have only used the baggage hold once, so I am not worried. But Greyhound! -- stop with the extra charges already. I wish I had those meeting minutes in front of me now. I am only able to give you the slightest of information, which is just based on the feelings of someone else, who was not expressing these feelings to me, or at least not directly. Indirectly, she told me alot.
I walk on bus, gunning for a front seat.
I ask the first woman..who is sitting near the window, "Is this seat taken?" She points to a bag on the floor in front of the aisle seat.
"So someone is sitting there?" She points again. I clearly huff and puff, and sit directly across from her and her supposedly saved seat.
It's not saved. No one sits there.
I think mean things. Put the bag in the overhead. Put the bag in the baggage hold while it's still free. Put the bag at your feet. She talks on the phone, and gets reprimanded by the driver. I smile. She annoys me. She lounges. Across both seats. She takes off her shoes. M does that, everywhere, and I only deal it because I think I like the guy, but this woman's feet...I did not want them...in my face. Yes, in my face as she is lounging with her bare feet dangling into the aisle. One of her shoes slowly makes its way down the aisle, due to some sort of physics of the starts and stops of the bus. Perhaps even the forces of inertia were at play. I don't know the exact science, but it made its way pretty far down the aisle, and I hoped that it would go missing. Someone eventually picked it up, and gave it back to her. She was happy and surprised. Next time lady, keep track of your footwear. Keeping them on helps.
My seatmate slept. He was quiet. I took out a book to read, only to be disappointed when I remembered I finished the book on the bus to DC...and I finished the other book on the plane. (My flight to TEXAS was faster than Greyhound, quieter, less stinky, while I was also provided with carrots and chocolate and drinks. Where is your beverage service, Greyhound?)I watched some of Dr. Katz.
Got off bus, and made my way to class. Overall it was uneventful, full of well-directed but un-acted-on anger, and quick. No rest-stops or bathroom anecdotes to speak of.
Sunday, May 25, 2008
double trouble
Remember how last week I had two tickets for DC....well this week I had none.
My day planner, which I swear by, told me that I had a bus ticket with a time and ticket number -- A -02. I went to print it out, and no ticket. I checked my text-ticket, no ticket. I went onto Bolt...no ticket in My Trips. I frantically called M and he quickly found that every bus line, except Greyhound, was sold-out. Credit card information was exchanged, and I picked up my ticket from the kiosk.
The line was long. I somehow got on the 5:00. There was mass confusion. I got the first window seat behind the driver. I asked a second driver sitting across the aisle if I had time to throw out my coffee (cold blueberry coffee from lunch...very old and cold)...he said there should be a garbage outside. I walked off the bus, saw a Greyhound employee and asked if I could run inside and throw out my coffee. He gestured for me to hand it to him. I reluctantly did so...and he threw it, threw it, into the bus lot...some of it splashed on some suitcases! Thanking him, I quickly walked back to my seat.
Mass confusion, people confused, Greyhound confused. Someone is in the BATHROOM already...and seats are filled. A woman sits next to me and spills ice all over me and my seat. She had a cup of half melted-ice. We pick it up from my seat which is now soaking wet. Her daughter/niece/or relative of some sort is sitting behind me. I switch seats with her -- to be nice, to not have a wet seat, and to not have to listen to them talk back and forth the entire trip.
I do not watch my DVDs - Northanger Abbey and Dr. Katz. My DVD player wasn't fully charged -- I expected to be on a bus with some outlets! I read and finished the Memory Keepers Daughter. I cried, on the bus. I texted about crying. My seat-mate (not the best, I will be kind and not say what I really think) asked me what I was reading. I couldn't even explain. I cried.
I read HeyDay. I did not cry, but I am now interested in finding where the quarantine hospital for sick immigrants was located on Staten Island.
We get to DC quick. Quite quick, despite there being a fire near/in the Lincoln Tunnel. We had 2 drivers, they drive tag-team...maybe that helped. So quick, quicker than Bolt ever got me anywhere. Nobody outruns the Hound. Speed may beat outlets.
The bathroom -- no seat. Just a hole. With everything sloshing around in blue inside. Outhouse style. I use it anyway.
Get to DC. My cab driver talks, I listen.
Fast ride, Bad seatmate, Sad book...but at least I got on..Greyhound and their first-come, first serve philosophy once again works to my advantage.
My day planner, which I swear by, told me that I had a bus ticket with a time and ticket number -- A -02. I went to print it out, and no ticket. I checked my text-ticket, no ticket. I went onto Bolt...no ticket in My Trips. I frantically called M and he quickly found that every bus line, except Greyhound, was sold-out. Credit card information was exchanged, and I picked up my ticket from the kiosk.
The line was long. I somehow got on the 5:00. There was mass confusion. I got the first window seat behind the driver. I asked a second driver sitting across the aisle if I had time to throw out my coffee (cold blueberry coffee from lunch...very old and cold)...he said there should be a garbage outside. I walked off the bus, saw a Greyhound employee and asked if I could run inside and throw out my coffee. He gestured for me to hand it to him. I reluctantly did so...and he threw it, threw it, into the bus lot...some of it splashed on some suitcases! Thanking him, I quickly walked back to my seat.
Mass confusion, people confused, Greyhound confused. Someone is in the BATHROOM already...and seats are filled. A woman sits next to me and spills ice all over me and my seat. She had a cup of half melted-ice. We pick it up from my seat which is now soaking wet. Her daughter/niece/or relative of some sort is sitting behind me. I switch seats with her -- to be nice, to not have a wet seat, and to not have to listen to them talk back and forth the entire trip.
I do not watch my DVDs - Northanger Abbey and Dr. Katz. My DVD player wasn't fully charged -- I expected to be on a bus with some outlets! I read and finished the Memory Keepers Daughter. I cried, on the bus. I texted about crying. My seat-mate (not the best, I will be kind and not say what I really think) asked me what I was reading. I couldn't even explain. I cried.
I read HeyDay. I did not cry, but I am now interested in finding where the quarantine hospital for sick immigrants was located on Staten Island.
We get to DC quick. Quite quick, despite there being a fire near/in the Lincoln Tunnel. We had 2 drivers, they drive tag-team...maybe that helped. So quick, quicker than Bolt ever got me anywhere. Nobody outruns the Hound. Speed may beat outlets.
The bathroom -- no seat. Just a hole. With everything sloshing around in blue inside. Outhouse style. I use it anyway.
Get to DC. My cab driver talks, I listen.
Fast ride, Bad seatmate, Sad book...but at least I got on..Greyhound and their first-come, first serve philosophy once again works to my advantage.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
that's the way it is
5:30 bus to DC. I printed out my tickets a few hours before, noticing that I accidentally purchased 2 tickets. On Greyhound, this would have been easily resolved. I have traveled with the wrong date, wrong time, wrong direction tickets at least twice before -- I won't claim that I wasn't nervous about it. I usually start to sweat and fidget and get nervous -- see past blogs, unless I didn't write about that. In that case, see M's brother for details.
I wait in the rain. I ask a fellow Bolt waiter what she thinks I should do about my extra ticket. I buy a $6.00 sandwich that turns out to be just cheese-tomato-alfalfa sprouts on wheat bread leaving me sorely disappointed on the Delaware Memorial Bridge.
The driver lets us all on without checking tickets. I load my SUITCASE (for next week's vacation...I didn't go anywhere this week) onto the bottom of the bus. First time I did that. I walk on, and take a seat. I take two seats. I stand in front of the seat with the outlet. My bag takes the window seat. A man asks if he can get in the window seat -- NO. I look out the window, squint my eyes, and pretend that I am waiting for the person who I said (lied) I am waiting for.
Everyone is seated...so far I told two people that both of my seats were taken. I hope the woman I spoke to earlier in regards to my ticket did not witness my fibbery. Driver calls Bolt to confirm a rider's ticket -- he did print it, but he never retrieved it from the printer.
Driver announces that he will check tickets starting in the back -- before he does that, I get his attention and explain my situation. He said that I could probably get my money back from the company. I would never follow up with that -- so I asked if I could sell my ticket to a standby person -- or I would just use my ticket and take two seats. He said “we’ll see what happens.” I decide that I will take the two seats, because I paid for two seats. Let the standbys wait for the next bus.
The man in the aisle seat across from me tells the Driver that he doesn't have a ticket. He needs to buy one...and he is already on the bus. Other stand-bys are waiting outside. This would not have happened if the tickets were checked earlier, but I try to make it work to my advantage. I interrupt. I was eavesdropping but this time it paid off. Paid off in FACE VALUE! I ask the driver if I can sell my ticket to this man. A blind eye turned and money is exchanged. I don't want to set a bad example -- scalping Bolt tickets, well...just ask Randy Cohen. He'll tell you not to do it.
TIme goes on; the driver checks the tickets of me and my new friend.
Standby's get on. My seatmmate had a function to get to -- had a black dress with her. She enjoys using wireless internet, reading and writing about climate change, and watching the movie.
Driver tells us to not remove our shoes, as this is against the DOT rules.
The movie -- I forgot the name, but it has Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt. (ed. Mr. and Mrs. Smith- massive marketing campaigns do not affect L)
I watch the Ice Storm. I love the Ice Storm. It rained outside the bus, it added to the movie experience.I read. I texted. I looked around.
Bus arrives quite late. I have to crawl into the bottom of the bus to get my suitcase. I am happy that I remembered to get it. I take a cab to M's. It was a legit cab with a meter. No love is lost between the driver and I.
Bus to NY. The line snakes around a building. People are filling out surveys. I want one, bad. M goes in search of one. He returns with survey and a pen. The survey was never collected at the end of the trip. I answered every question. I am neutral on the usefulness of the foot rests but am first on bus! I recognize my seat mate from the TO DC bus. She recognizes me, I believe. She couldn't find her ipod in her apartment on Friday morning. It may be lost. She does not have a book. She texts to pass the time. Then -- and this is unbelievable. I took cell-phone photos and video as proof -- The driver announces that his #1 choice of movie would not be able to be shown --- not everyone was over 18. A child is on the bus. What happens because of this child gives me yet another reason to want children banned on coach buses.
He puts on a DVD of Celine Dion Videos. There is a collective groan. For my opinion, look at my rating on Netflix. Or you can continue reading. I could not stop watching. I somehow knew every song. My seatmate was shocked that this could be happening. We talked about it at length. She also knew the songs. We commented on the videos and live concert footage. I had a newspaper, a magazine, two books, and a DVD player with a disc of House inside. But my eyes were glued. I recognized songs from several movies.
An elderly woman in the seat in front of me totters to the bathroom. She comes back. No toilet paper. She tells the driver. She wants a rest-stop, now. A vote was taken in which the will of the group was to keep driving. The woman yells that this is not a democracy. The driver eventually submits and we stop at a rest-stop. We continue to NY. The Driver says that he will show us one more video. What a jokester. Saw an ad for MegaBus on the R train.
I wait in the rain. I ask a fellow Bolt waiter what she thinks I should do about my extra ticket. I buy a $6.00 sandwich that turns out to be just cheese-tomato-alfalfa sprouts on wheat bread leaving me sorely disappointed on the Delaware Memorial Bridge.
The driver lets us all on without checking tickets. I load my SUITCASE (for next week's vacation...I didn't go anywhere this week) onto the bottom of the bus. First time I did that. I walk on, and take a seat. I take two seats. I stand in front of the seat with the outlet. My bag takes the window seat. A man asks if he can get in the window seat -- NO. I look out the window, squint my eyes, and pretend that I am waiting for the person who I said (lied) I am waiting for.
Everyone is seated...so far I told two people that both of my seats were taken. I hope the woman I spoke to earlier in regards to my ticket did not witness my fibbery. Driver calls Bolt to confirm a rider's ticket -- he did print it, but he never retrieved it from the printer.
Driver announces that he will check tickets starting in the back -- before he does that, I get his attention and explain my situation. He said that I could probably get my money back from the company. I would never follow up with that -- so I asked if I could sell my ticket to a standby person -- or I would just use my ticket and take two seats. He said “we’ll see what happens.” I decide that I will take the two seats, because I paid for two seats. Let the standbys wait for the next bus.
The man in the aisle seat across from me tells the Driver that he doesn't have a ticket. He needs to buy one...and he is already on the bus. Other stand-bys are waiting outside. This would not have happened if the tickets were checked earlier, but I try to make it work to my advantage. I interrupt. I was eavesdropping but this time it paid off. Paid off in FACE VALUE! I ask the driver if I can sell my ticket to this man. A blind eye turned and money is exchanged. I don't want to set a bad example -- scalping Bolt tickets, well...just ask Randy Cohen. He'll tell you not to do it.
TIme goes on; the driver checks the tickets of me and my new friend.
Standby's get on. My seatmmate had a function to get to -- had a black dress with her. She enjoys using wireless internet, reading and writing about climate change, and watching the movie.
Driver tells us to not remove our shoes, as this is against the DOT rules.
The movie -- I forgot the name, but it has Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt. (ed. Mr. and Mrs. Smith- massive marketing campaigns do not affect L)
I watch the Ice Storm. I love the Ice Storm. It rained outside the bus, it added to the movie experience.I read. I texted. I looked around.
Bus arrives quite late. I have to crawl into the bottom of the bus to get my suitcase. I am happy that I remembered to get it. I take a cab to M's. It was a legit cab with a meter. No love is lost between the driver and I.
Bus to NY. The line snakes around a building. People are filling out surveys. I want one, bad. M goes in search of one. He returns with survey and a pen. The survey was never collected at the end of the trip. I answered every question. I am neutral on the usefulness of the foot rests but am first on bus! I recognize my seat mate from the TO DC bus. She recognizes me, I believe. She couldn't find her ipod in her apartment on Friday morning. It may be lost. She does not have a book. She texts to pass the time. Then -- and this is unbelievable. I took cell-phone photos and video as proof -- The driver announces that his #1 choice of movie would not be able to be shown --- not everyone was over 18. A child is on the bus. What happens because of this child gives me yet another reason to want children banned on coach buses.
He puts on a DVD of Celine Dion Videos. There is a collective groan. For my opinion, look at my rating on Netflix. Or you can continue reading. I could not stop watching. I somehow knew every song. My seatmate was shocked that this could be happening. We talked about it at length. She also knew the songs. We commented on the videos and live concert footage. I had a newspaper, a magazine, two books, and a DVD player with a disc of House inside. But my eyes were glued. I recognized songs from several movies.
An elderly woman in the seat in front of me totters to the bathroom. She comes back. No toilet paper. She tells the driver. She wants a rest-stop, now. A vote was taken in which the will of the group was to keep driving. The woman yells that this is not a democracy. The driver eventually submits and we stop at a rest-stop. We continue to NY. The Driver says that he will show us one more video. What a jokester. Saw an ad for MegaBus on the R train.
Friday, May 9, 2008
Seat-mate, quiet service dog.
Will you be traveling with oxygen or a respirator?
Do you have a service dog?
Do you have a hearing disability?
Do you have a vision disability?
Do you have a wheelchair?
Call Bolt! Or Click on their Special Travel Needs link, and put in your phone number. Bolt will call you back, and set you up with some (not legally required till 2012) accommodations!
I first read this in the May Issue of Able News -- the newspaper positively for, by, and about the disabled. My weekend mode of transport and my work-related free newspaper finally met and surprised me -- Said that Bolt is 100% accessible -I had an inkling because of the wheelchair picture near the doors of the bus, but 100%? Bolt... I've used your bathrooms.
TANGENT: I have witnessed a Greyhound employee say "You're on the wrong line...WRONG LINE. What are you, deaf? READ MY LIPS, wrong line..." to someone who WAS deaf or hard of hearing...so Bolt..you definately beat Greyhound there. And me as well, since as I may or may not have written in the blog, I told the same person what bus to get on, which I also got on, and it was the wrong bus.
I would copy and paste the article here, but ablenews.com requires a password. A PASSWORD.
And someone who knows who she is TOOK my Able News right off my desk, so I cannot scan it in for you. And i got that one at the Library, not even at work.
I did some research... if reading the FAQs on Bolt's website can be considered research.
I have a disability and want to travel, what do I do?
On the home page you’ll see a link for customers with disabilities. Click on this link and you’ll be guided through the process. We recommend (as with all our customers) that you use this link and make a reservation in advance, save some money and guarantee your place on the bus. Walk up customers are always welcome on a space available basis.
Is your fleet wheelchair lift equipped?
Yes, the BOLTBUS fleet is 100% wheelchair equipped.
Not much information, but I am curious about the hearing disability options.
Do you have a service dog?
Do you have a hearing disability?
Do you have a vision disability?
Do you have a wheelchair?
Call Bolt! Or Click on their Special Travel Needs link, and put in your phone number. Bolt will call you back, and set you up with some (not legally required till 2012) accommodations!
I first read this in the May Issue of Able News -- the newspaper positively for, by, and about the disabled. My weekend mode of transport and my work-related free newspaper finally met and surprised me -- Said that Bolt is 100% accessible -I had an inkling because of the wheelchair picture near the doors of the bus, but 100%? Bolt... I've used your bathrooms.
TANGENT: I have witnessed a Greyhound employee say "You're on the wrong line...WRONG LINE. What are you, deaf? READ MY LIPS, wrong line..." to someone who WAS deaf or hard of hearing...so Bolt..you definately beat Greyhound there. And me as well, since as I may or may not have written in the blog, I told the same person what bus to get on, which I also got on, and it was the wrong bus.
I would copy and paste the article here, but ablenews.com requires a password. A PASSWORD.
And someone who knows who she is TOOK my Able News right off my desk, so I cannot scan it in for you. And i got that one at the Library, not even at work.
I did some research... if reading the FAQs on Bolt's website can be considered research.
I have a disability and want to travel, what do I do?
On the home page you’ll see a link for customers with disabilities. Click on this link and you’ll be guided through the process. We recommend (as with all our customers) that you use this link and make a reservation in advance, save some money and guarantee your place on the bus. Walk up customers are always welcome on a space available basis.
Is your fleet wheelchair lift equipped?
Yes, the BOLTBUS fleet is 100% wheelchair equipped.
Not much information, but I am curious about the hearing disability options.
plans get complex
4:47 PM: Hello faithful readers. First and foremost- for those of you in the DC area, some of my bus musings have made it off the internet and published in this week's Onion (DC only) so peep it! I forgot to include a plug about the blog, an inexcusable oversight that can never be corrected. This was our chance for regional fame!
Back to business: Arriving at the bus stop, a large queue leads hopeful passengers half way down the block. The 3 PM was quite late so I take this as an opportunity to get a sandwich. After refusing to pay 7.50 for a hummus sandwich at Cosi (perhaps this was made from gold plated chick peas?) I take a chance on Potbelly, a franchise I have narrowly avoided since moving to DC. Their "vegetarian" is a mushroom sandwich but was loaded with enough hot peppers to make it worth my time. I return to a much shorter line and inquire around regarding our status. Turns out the 4 PM is on its way. The girl in front of me frowns at this development, complaining aloud that her friend is stuck in an elevator with their tickets. She moans and hopes this bus is as late as the last. Your predicament is surely tragic, but should we all be late to our evening's events because your friend didn't take the stairs? I think not.
This same passenger takes this dilemma as an opportunity to hit on the brooks brother type standing in front of her. His tortoise shell glasses made me wish I was a lawyer. "That's all there are in this town, politicians and lawyers" he coyly remarks, dusting off a script he breaks out nightly. This girl is interested, he is not. She talks about her hotel in Times Square that awaits her and begins lamenting the night that is slowly getting away. They exchange cards which she justifies for "networking" purposes. He boards the bus while she shirks to the sidelines and begins to wait on the elevator operators.
5:02PM: One of my professors sent out an email that our final papers are outside her office and grades have been posted online. This email was sent at 3:44. It is now 5:05 and my browser shows nothing. I have been refreshing like a crazy person but still...nothing. Can't something be done?!?! I can't be that guy who emails the teacher asking for his individual grade. Can I? Only time will tell and bus time is akin to dog years...it stretches far beyond how humans normally perceived it.
5:21PM: I emailed my professor.
5:29PM: Got my grade via email! A-! Now I can watch Julien Donkey Boy in peace.
8:21PM: Just finished Julien Donkey Boy, as we continue to crawl on the crowded rainy turnpike. I just might beat l's record of longest trip...fingers crossed?
Back to business: Arriving at the bus stop, a large queue leads hopeful passengers half way down the block. The 3 PM was quite late so I take this as an opportunity to get a sandwich. After refusing to pay 7.50 for a hummus sandwich at Cosi (perhaps this was made from gold plated chick peas?) I take a chance on Potbelly, a franchise I have narrowly avoided since moving to DC. Their "vegetarian" is a mushroom sandwich but was loaded with enough hot peppers to make it worth my time. I return to a much shorter line and inquire around regarding our status. Turns out the 4 PM is on its way. The girl in front of me frowns at this development, complaining aloud that her friend is stuck in an elevator with their tickets. She moans and hopes this bus is as late as the last. Your predicament is surely tragic, but should we all be late to our evening's events because your friend didn't take the stairs? I think not.
This same passenger takes this dilemma as an opportunity to hit on the brooks brother type standing in front of her. His tortoise shell glasses made me wish I was a lawyer. "That's all there are in this town, politicians and lawyers" he coyly remarks, dusting off a script he breaks out nightly. This girl is interested, he is not. She talks about her hotel in Times Square that awaits her and begins lamenting the night that is slowly getting away. They exchange cards which she justifies for "networking" purposes. He boards the bus while she shirks to the sidelines and begins to wait on the elevator operators.
5:02PM: One of my professors sent out an email that our final papers are outside her office and grades have been posted online. This email was sent at 3:44. It is now 5:05 and my browser shows nothing. I have been refreshing like a crazy person but still...nothing. Can't something be done?!?! I can't be that guy who emails the teacher asking for his individual grade. Can I? Only time will tell and bus time is akin to dog years...it stretches far beyond how humans normally perceived it.
5:21PM: I emailed my professor.
5:29PM: Got my grade via email! A-! Now I can watch Julien Donkey Boy in peace.
8:21PM: Just finished Julien Donkey Boy, as we continue to crawl on the crowded rainy turnpike. I just might beat l's record of longest trip...fingers crossed?
Friday, May 2, 2008
to be young and on a bus
4:05 PM EST- This is my first time live blogging! There's scandal at 11th and G, as the scheduled 4:00 pm has decided that it will park itself at Canal and 6th and not the scheduled stop at 34th. People are enraged, including one particularly distressed woman who proclaims that "they'll be getting a negative review from me!" Uness this is Frommer's wife, this plea will fall upon deaf ears. Or perhaps she'll be on the other end of a very understanding customer service person who kindly rescheduled my 10:30 am departure via email...no muss, no fuss.
This controversy led to two swirling lines, one that wrapped around the bus stop. I shimmied to the front, one of the few benefits of being so small. The bus boards those who going to Canal first. When I approach the driver to ask whether I'd be allowed to exchange my ticket, she is confused and furiously yelling into a side kick (fyi- this woman has more than a passing resemblance to former Rap star Da Brat) spots the "A" on my ticket lets me on. I am now on a non-crowded bus with leather seats and no neighbor to speak of, obviously enjoying the benefits of free wireless. More later.
-m
5:38 PM EST- It being finals time, I am working on a paper although I've spent the last 40 minutes reading the New York Times/miscellaneous positive reviews for Iron Man. Besides that, it seems to have been a pretty slow week for movies. I received an email from E Street Cinema that proclaimed "Great movies still playing at E Street!" Way harsh. Just passing Baltimore. I have decided that after 25 minutes of an annoying woman yapping about weddings on a cell phone, to ask her to "please keep it down." She ignores me but I feel better knowing that I said my piece.
5:51 PM EST- That annoying woman has finally decided to get off of her cell phone and is now reading a copy of The Audacity of Hope. Could the power of Barack's unifying vision bring even US together?!
7:10 PM EST- On my way into Delaware, I spot a broken down 'hound right near a toll plaza. A tire is in the process of getting changed which one can only assume takes quite some time. Passengers are strewn about on the lawn, a few playing frisbee to make the most of a bad time. A true testament to the reseliancy of the American people. The child three rows behind me is most certainly eating something involving sour cream or onion because some serious odors making their way up the aisle. Blogger full disclosure: i am wearing boat shoes without socks today and am writing my paper barefoot. Perhaps in an alternate bus blogging universe someone is writing about me!
7:45 PM EST We've stopped for snacks and smokes. A head count was done before anyone left the coach, which I'd like to note parked itself in the section of truck stop generally reserved for people doing dirty things in RVs and drug deals. Unable to control my snack attack, I quickly purchase a bag of Chex Mix and return back. I was seriously considering buying a copy of Hal Ashby's Shampoo that was previously viewed in the convenient mart but decided against it. Occasionaly, I am seriously baffled at truck stop movie and music selections, this trip being no exception. Someone is on the phone exclaims that "this driver is the slowest!" I let out a Nelson like "ha!" to echo my approval. We're back on the road at 8:05.
This controversy led to two swirling lines, one that wrapped around the bus stop. I shimmied to the front, one of the few benefits of being so small. The bus boards those who going to Canal first. When I approach the driver to ask whether I'd be allowed to exchange my ticket, she is confused and furiously yelling into a side kick (fyi- this woman has more than a passing resemblance to former Rap star Da Brat) spots the "A" on my ticket lets me on. I am now on a non-crowded bus with leather seats and no neighbor to speak of, obviously enjoying the benefits of free wireless. More later.
-m
5:38 PM EST- It being finals time, I am working on a paper although I've spent the last 40 minutes reading the New York Times/miscellaneous positive reviews for Iron Man. Besides that, it seems to have been a pretty slow week for movies. I received an email from E Street Cinema that proclaimed "Great movies still playing at E Street!" Way harsh. Just passing Baltimore. I have decided that after 25 minutes of an annoying woman yapping about weddings on a cell phone, to ask her to "please keep it down." She ignores me but I feel better knowing that I said my piece.
5:51 PM EST- That annoying woman has finally decided to get off of her cell phone and is now reading a copy of The Audacity of Hope. Could the power of Barack's unifying vision bring even US together?!
7:10 PM EST- On my way into Delaware, I spot a broken down 'hound right near a toll plaza. A tire is in the process of getting changed which one can only assume takes quite some time. Passengers are strewn about on the lawn, a few playing frisbee to make the most of a bad time. A true testament to the reseliancy of the American people. The child three rows behind me is most certainly eating something involving sour cream or onion because some serious odors making their way up the aisle. Blogger full disclosure: i am wearing boat shoes without socks today and am writing my paper barefoot. Perhaps in an alternate bus blogging universe someone is writing about me!
7:45 PM EST We've stopped for snacks and smokes. A head count was done before anyone left the coach, which I'd like to note parked itself in the section of truck stop generally reserved for people doing dirty things in RVs and drug deals. Unable to control my snack attack, I quickly purchase a bag of Chex Mix and return back. I was seriously considering buying a copy of Hal Ashby's Shampoo that was previously viewed in the convenient mart but decided against it. Occasionaly, I am seriously baffled at truck stop movie and music selections, this trip being no exception. Someone is on the phone exclaims that "this driver is the slowest!" I let out a Nelson like "ha!" to echo my approval. We're back on the road at 8:05.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
live bloggin'
5:30 bus to DC. The line was unorganized. People were confused. An air conditioner in the building near the line blew dirt on us. The tickets were barely glanced at. I could have had a later ticket. Probably. I got my pick of a seat because of my ticket A status. Aisle seat with a plug. Yes, status. Loyalty club member.
I attempted to do my writing assignment but it was difficult to juggle between my textbook, written notes, powerpoint handouts, and computer. I gave up quickly.
Watched Picket Fences. My left earphone was broken. I texted. I went on my computer, and was impressed with my internet access. I emailed photos. As the email said, BoltBus now caters to Macs. If Netflix ever makes the Watch It Now feature available to us, my bus movie choices would be endless...almost.
My seatmate was quiet, slept sometimes, read, and made sure the bus did not leave without me when I went into the rest stop. He worked in Argentina for a non-profit. Now he works in NY. He is from the Midwest. He spoke about the Mega-bus, and its wonders.
The man behind me was a pain. Somehow, even though he was sitting alone and in the window seat, he kept kicking the back of mine.
It was his first bus to DC. And as he said on the phone, he saved $180 by not taking the train.
He also said that "there aren't many other bankers on this bus." Shut your face, sir. Maybe there are...maybe there are. Did you poll us? Then be quiet.
He continued to say that he ONLY regrets that he did not bring a coke bottle FILLED with vodka. Because it's Friday and he is feeling kinda dry.
We arrive in DC without incident.
1:00 bus to NY. I arrive just in time. I am on the second person to get on despite there being a line. I am ticket A - 2, and the bus driver actually boards according to letter and number, My likes include order and organization, so I love her. I even text about her.
Some 1:30's get on, some standbys. Some 3:00's tried.
A 1:00 came late, and had to wait until 1:30 because the seats were filled up. Do not show up late. Do not.
Every leather seat was filled, unlike at Greyhound where the drivers pretend that they are full. See past blogs to re-read my experience with that.
Seatmate is perfect. We both used the plug, I am at the window seat. I watched House, but I had seen two of the episodes on that disc already, so I was finished quickly. I checked my email. And now I will eat tomatoes, -- a variety of them, and read the Washington Post. 25 comic strips!
This is the first live blog. Since it is live, I cannot yet reveal how it ended. Did I hit traffic? Find out next time.
-l
Ed note: L did hit traffic, quite a lot of it in fact. So much that this trip now holds the dubious distinction of being the longest ever on a bus clocking it at a whopping 7 hours.
I attempted to do my writing assignment but it was difficult to juggle between my textbook, written notes, powerpoint handouts, and computer. I gave up quickly.
Watched Picket Fences. My left earphone was broken. I texted. I went on my computer, and was impressed with my internet access. I emailed photos. As the email said, BoltBus now caters to Macs. If Netflix ever makes the Watch It Now feature available to us, my bus movie choices would be endless...almost.
My seatmate was quiet, slept sometimes, read, and made sure the bus did not leave without me when I went into the rest stop. He worked in Argentina for a non-profit. Now he works in NY. He is from the Midwest. He spoke about the Mega-bus, and its wonders.
The man behind me was a pain. Somehow, even though he was sitting alone and in the window seat, he kept kicking the back of mine.
It was his first bus to DC. And as he said on the phone, he saved $180 by not taking the train.
He also said that "there aren't many other bankers on this bus." Shut your face, sir. Maybe there are...maybe there are. Did you poll us? Then be quiet.
He continued to say that he ONLY regrets that he did not bring a coke bottle FILLED with vodka. Because it's Friday and he is feeling kinda dry.
We arrive in DC without incident.
1:00 bus to NY. I arrive just in time. I am on the second person to get on despite there being a line. I am ticket A - 2, and the bus driver actually boards according to letter and number, My likes include order and organization, so I love her. I even text about her.
Some 1:30's get on, some standbys. Some 3:00's tried.
A 1:00 came late, and had to wait until 1:30 because the seats were filled up. Do not show up late. Do not.
Every leather seat was filled, unlike at Greyhound where the drivers pretend that they are full. See past blogs to re-read my experience with that.
Seatmate is perfect. We both used the plug, I am at the window seat. I watched House, but I had seen two of the episodes on that disc already, so I was finished quickly. I checked my email. And now I will eat tomatoes, -- a variety of them, and read the Washington Post. 25 comic strips!
This is the first live blog. Since it is live, I cannot yet reveal how it ended. Did I hit traffic? Find out next time.
-l
Ed note: L did hit traffic, quite a lot of it in fact. So much that this trip now holds the dubious distinction of being the longest ever on a bus clocking it at a whopping 7 hours.
Friday, April 25, 2008
Rest-stop times three
The ticket kiosks are out of order – and I am in New York. This doesn’t happen in New York. I have yet to see a working ticket kiosk in DC, but I am taken aback in New York. I was nervous - I have never waited on line to speak to an actual person to get my ticket.
And I didn’t have to this time either. A Greyhound employee somehow had the kiosk print my ticket. I was leery of handing a stranger my credit card at the Port Authority, but that Greyhound uniform instills a trust in a rider, so hand it over I did. Not only did he print my tickets out, but he also placed them in one of those envelopes that I see others holding on line. Not only did he place them in one of those envelopes that I see others holding on line, but he told me my Gate number, and he wrote it in the appropriate space on the envelope. Gate 71, I know it is Gate 71. I know it so well that I don’t even look for a Gate number, I just know when I get there. Still, … I appreciate that writing of the number down.
I make my way down the stairs, and see that there is no line. No line, bad sign. I walk to the front, and find out that there is a bus, but there may not be seats. Lucky for me there were not two seats together – a very pushy woman with her child cut me line...in a line where I was the only person.
I get a seat. Second to the front, left side aisle.
Seatmate was quiet, had the same cell phone, didn't eat stinky food, and is dating someone who goes to school in DC. Greyhound twinsie, you may be thinking. That is exactly what P said when I texted her about it.
Seatmate said he would guest blog.
He has not, as of yet.
We made three rest-stops.
The first one was an actual stop. I think I bought coffee.
A sociable and quite elderly fellow-rider approached me. He was drawn to my portable DVD player. He asked questions…what is that…how is working…it just plays that?…oh you have to buy the movies?...He also said “cute” in my direction, which may have also been in the direction of small child in the next seat. I like to think it was directed my way.
He comes back later. He comes back and watches a few seconds of a House episode over my shoulder. He questions me. He comments about not knowing technology, but he assures me that he does have a phone. To my, “and is it a cell phone!?”….he claims that the battery is dead. He walks away.
Well, sir, I did not want to use your phone if that was your excuse for me not to use it. I was merely continuing the conversation you started about not knowing technology.
We did not speak again. If my seatmate had guestblogged, he would have told you that it was awkward.
2nd rest stop – to pick up a stranded Greyhound driver.
3rd rest stop – to get stranded Greyhound driver dinner.
There was a riot. People yelled. I think someone said, “And you call this an EXPRESS BUS TO DC!” I understand the riders…no one wants to stop. We all want to get to our boyfriend’s apartment and order textured vegetable protein made to look like general tso’s chicken, but circumstances made us wait. I may have been more sympathetic to the excessive stops because my second row seating allowed me to hear the whole story…I paused House and removed my earphones...I listened. I understood. The stranded driver was stranded since 4:00 PM. No other buses stopped, and she was waving her arms. I did not find out what happened to the riders of her broken down bus. Seatmate said that his bus broke down once – but that’s his story to blog, if he ever comes forward to do so.
The rest of the ride is a blur. I am sure I watched some Picket Fences.
I quickly get off the bus, and head towards the taxi drivers. The first guy says he’ll take me, and another taxi driver tells him that this is okay – not sure why he needed permission, but he tells me that he is parked a little ways off. We walk. And walk. And walk around the block. I realize that we are not walking towards a licensed taxi. I quickly decide that I will get in this stranger’s personal vehicle and hope that he will drive me to M’s apartment. I sit in the passenger seat. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to sit in the back, but I figured I’d go for it. He drives, we talk.
I love him.
He married at 22, to his pregnant 19 year old girlfriend. Both were Howard University students. 5 kids later, and they are still together. I tell him my story. He gives me some advice, we talk, we laugh. I get dropped off.
The ride back to New York was uneventful.
-l
And I didn’t have to this time either. A Greyhound employee somehow had the kiosk print my ticket. I was leery of handing a stranger my credit card at the Port Authority, but that Greyhound uniform instills a trust in a rider, so hand it over I did. Not only did he print my tickets out, but he also placed them in one of those envelopes that I see others holding on line. Not only did he place them in one of those envelopes that I see others holding on line, but he told me my Gate number, and he wrote it in the appropriate space on the envelope. Gate 71, I know it is Gate 71. I know it so well that I don’t even look for a Gate number, I just know when I get there. Still, … I appreciate that writing of the number down.
I make my way down the stairs, and see that there is no line. No line, bad sign. I walk to the front, and find out that there is a bus, but there may not be seats. Lucky for me there were not two seats together – a very pushy woman with her child cut me line...in a line where I was the only person.
I get a seat. Second to the front, left side aisle.
Seatmate was quiet, had the same cell phone, didn't eat stinky food, and is dating someone who goes to school in DC. Greyhound twinsie, you may be thinking. That is exactly what P said when I texted her about it.
Seatmate said he would guest blog.
He has not, as of yet.
We made three rest-stops.
The first one was an actual stop. I think I bought coffee.
A sociable and quite elderly fellow-rider approached me. He was drawn to my portable DVD player. He asked questions…what is that…how is working…it just plays that?…oh you have to buy the movies?...He also said “cute” in my direction, which may have also been in the direction of small child in the next seat. I like to think it was directed my way.
He comes back later. He comes back and watches a few seconds of a House episode over my shoulder. He questions me. He comments about not knowing technology, but he assures me that he does have a phone. To my, “and is it a cell phone!?”….he claims that the battery is dead. He walks away.
Well, sir, I did not want to use your phone if that was your excuse for me not to use it. I was merely continuing the conversation you started about not knowing technology.
We did not speak again. If my seatmate had guestblogged, he would have told you that it was awkward.
2nd rest stop – to pick up a stranded Greyhound driver.
3rd rest stop – to get stranded Greyhound driver dinner.
There was a riot. People yelled. I think someone said, “And you call this an EXPRESS BUS TO DC!” I understand the riders…no one wants to stop. We all want to get to our boyfriend’s apartment and order textured vegetable protein made to look like general tso’s chicken, but circumstances made us wait. I may have been more sympathetic to the excessive stops because my second row seating allowed me to hear the whole story…I paused House and removed my earphones...I listened. I understood. The stranded driver was stranded since 4:00 PM. No other buses stopped, and she was waving her arms. I did not find out what happened to the riders of her broken down bus. Seatmate said that his bus broke down once – but that’s his story to blog, if he ever comes forward to do so.
The rest of the ride is a blur. I am sure I watched some Picket Fences.
I quickly get off the bus, and head towards the taxi drivers. The first guy says he’ll take me, and another taxi driver tells him that this is okay – not sure why he needed permission, but he tells me that he is parked a little ways off. We walk. And walk. And walk around the block. I realize that we are not walking towards a licensed taxi. I quickly decide that I will get in this stranger’s personal vehicle and hope that he will drive me to M’s apartment. I sit in the passenger seat. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to sit in the back, but I figured I’d go for it. He drives, we talk.
I love him.
He married at 22, to his pregnant 19 year old girlfriend. Both were Howard University students. 5 kids later, and they are still together. I tell him my story. He gives me some advice, we talk, we laugh. I get dropped off.
The ride back to New York was uneventful.
-l
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
you had us at "better directions"
The following message was sent to Bolt Bus riders:
We had numerous requests to improve our directions and provide more clues / landmarks to the pickup points. The current directions are pretty brief and insufficient… we apologize… hopefully this email will help get you to the right location. In a week or two we’ll update our FAQ with pictures, better descriptions and landmarks.
New York - 33rd and 7th (service to Washington D.C.) - at the northeast corner of the intersection. The bus will stop in the designated bus stop area on 33rd Street in front of a Sbarro’s Italian restuarant. (Honestly… we don’t like this location because it is crowded and are talking with the city about moving somewhere more appropriate… we’ll keep you posted)
New York – 34th and 8th (service to Philadelphia and Boston) at the northwest corner of the intersection. The primary landmark is the New Yorker hotel and the Tick Tock Diner. Along 34th there are designated bus stops from the Tick Tock to the entrance to the hotel. This is where our bus will pickup.
New York – 6th and Canal (service to Washington D. C. and Philadelphia) – at the northeast corner of the intersection a little north on 6th. Technically the location is on 6th between Canal and Grand. The pickup point is near a fenced in basketball court.
Washington – 11th and G – at the southwest corner of the intersection right in front of the Metro Center subway entrance. The primary landmark (other than the Metro) is a bunch of newspaper dispensers (10+) and across the street is a Suntrust bank. Our bus will use the designated bus stop
Philadelphia – 30th and Market – at the southwest corner of the intersection. Next to the pickup point is the Thompson Institute and across the street is the Post Office.
Boarding tips
Please be 15 minutes early – we will do everything we can to run on time, if you are five minutes late you’ll probably miss the bus.
Print out your email confirmation … this makes the whole process go fast and problem free.
We ask for your patience… we expect as a start up company that we will have some issues and we did. Not many but a few… from our view one issue is one too many… we’ll continue to work hard to improve and run the best service we can.
We had numerous requests to improve our directions and provide more clues / landmarks to the pickup points. The current directions are pretty brief and insufficient… we apologize… hopefully this email will help get you to the right location. In a week or two we’ll update our FAQ with pictures, better descriptions and landmarks.
New York - 33rd and 7th (service to Washington D.C.) - at the northeast corner of the intersection. The bus will stop in the designated bus stop area on 33rd Street in front of a Sbarro’s Italian restuarant. (Honestly… we don’t like this location because it is crowded and are talking with the city about moving somewhere more appropriate… we’ll keep you posted)
New York – 34th and 8th (service to Philadelphia and Boston) at the northwest corner of the intersection. The primary landmark is the New Yorker hotel and the Tick Tock Diner. Along 34th there are designated bus stops from the Tick Tock to the entrance to the hotel. This is where our bus will pickup.
New York – 6th and Canal (service to Washington D. C. and Philadelphia) – at the northeast corner of the intersection a little north on 6th. Technically the location is on 6th between Canal and Grand. The pickup point is near a fenced in basketball court.
Washington – 11th and G – at the southwest corner of the intersection right in front of the Metro Center subway entrance. The primary landmark (other than the Metro) is a bunch of newspaper dispensers (10+) and across the street is a Suntrust bank. Our bus will use the designated bus stop
Philadelphia – 30th and Market – at the southwest corner of the intersection. Next to the pickup point is the Thompson Institute and across the street is the Post Office.
Boarding tips
Please be 15 minutes early – we will do everything we can to run on time, if you are five minutes late you’ll probably miss the bus.
Print out your email confirmation … this makes the whole process go fast and problem free.
We ask for your patience… we expect as a start up company that we will have some issues and we did. Not many but a few… from our view one issue is one too many… we’ll continue to work hard to improve and run the best service we can.
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
first time, all over again
I've hinted at the high level of excitement that the bolt bus has inspired within me and L previously so I’ll try to curb my gushing here. Meandering over to the corner of 11th and G, I stopped to breathe in deep. The smell of spring and a change in the air upon us; words simply can’t express these kinds of phenomena. I was riding the crest of a new era, one filled with spacious leg room and deep pockets from savings. It took about an hour to come back down.
The bus smelled new, that awful mix of plastic (or leather for you high-rollers) that gets labeled as "new car smell." To my nose, it smells like sadness and factories, but I’ll do my best not to project my emotional reactions of smells onto you. As I make a mad dash down the aisle, I am desperately searching for an AV outlet as to not make my rental of "Apocalypse Now” in vein. It takes me 2/3 of the bus to realize that there placements are on the back of seats and not near the window as I expected.
The trip begins routinely and the people riding are rather...ordinary. Mostly students with some business types sprinkled about. The driver takes a detour somewhere outside of Baltimore where things begin to get a bit hairy. Now, my knowledge of routes and highways does not allow me to make grand accusatory statements with any real expertise behind it (i.e.- You've got to be a fool to take 295 at 4:30 on a Friday!) That being said, our route seemed unusual and somewhat creative yet ineffective in shaving off the time of the trip- my 3:00pm bus arrived at 33rd and 7th at 8:00pm.
We broke for a 10 minute rest stop, a rookie move considering the bus was not running on schedule. Note to Bolt Bus drivers: cigarette breaks and Filet-o-Fish are for those who are running early!
I took a step outside to stretch my legs. As I linger making phone calls, two droopy faced youngsters approach the driver. The conversation goes something like this:
Two misanthropes: "Have you been told about us? We were on the 1pm from DC and got off the bus and it left without us. We were told we'd be allowed to board this bus?"
Driver:I have no idea..." (makes phone call inquiring about stowed luggage a good question considering there is no actual bolt bus terminal opting for the time being to meet at specified street corners.)
Needless to say, these two didn't board our bus. Some have suggested they have been forced to start a new life at the Molly Pitcher rest area, an accusation I am in no position to confirm or deny. On my return trip, I hear a fellow passenger recount a time where she was left by a greyhound bus waiting for a Blimpie sandwich. Next time you don't get the bread toasted!
The bus smelled new, that awful mix of plastic (or leather for you high-rollers) that gets labeled as "new car smell." To my nose, it smells like sadness and factories, but I’ll do my best not to project my emotional reactions of smells onto you. As I make a mad dash down the aisle, I am desperately searching for an AV outlet as to not make my rental of "Apocalypse Now” in vein. It takes me 2/3 of the bus to realize that there placements are on the back of seats and not near the window as I expected.
The trip begins routinely and the people riding are rather...ordinary. Mostly students with some business types sprinkled about. The driver takes a detour somewhere outside of Baltimore where things begin to get a bit hairy. Now, my knowledge of routes and highways does not allow me to make grand accusatory statements with any real expertise behind it (i.e.- You've got to be a fool to take 295 at 4:30 on a Friday!) That being said, our route seemed unusual and somewhat creative yet ineffective in shaving off the time of the trip- my 3:00pm bus arrived at 33rd and 7th at 8:00pm.
We broke for a 10 minute rest stop, a rookie move considering the bus was not running on schedule. Note to Bolt Bus drivers: cigarette breaks and Filet-o-Fish are for those who are running early!
I took a step outside to stretch my legs. As I linger making phone calls, two droopy faced youngsters approach the driver. The conversation goes something like this:
Two misanthropes: "Have you been told about us? We were on the 1pm from DC and got off the bus and it left without us. We were told we'd be allowed to board this bus?"
Driver:I have no idea..." (makes phone call inquiring about stowed luggage a good question considering there is no actual bolt bus terminal opting for the time being to meet at specified street corners.)
Needless to say, these two didn't board our bus. Some have suggested they have been forced to start a new life at the Molly Pitcher rest area, an accusation I am in no position to confirm or deny. On my return trip, I hear a fellow passenger recount a time where she was left by a greyhound bus waiting for a Blimpie sandwich. Next time you don't get the bread toasted!
keep it like a shhhh!
For those about to hound, we salute you (SECRETLY):
Those interested can now get half-off tickets by participating in Greyhound's mystery traveler program. While the details of my participating are highly sensitive and not to be repeated here...you can count on some faithful reconnaissance coming soon.
Your convoluted mission:
Mystery Traveler
Thank you for participating in our Mystery Travel program! Your feedback about your
trip is valuable to Greyhound, so please tell us about the good and the bad. Make sureyou read the questions and become familiar with them before your trip. Do not at any time tell any Greyhound employee that you are a mystery traveler; we need you to
keep your anonymity at all times in order to obtain the most accurate results.
Please take these questions (and a pen) with you on your trip and complete your
answers as soon as you can. Do not fill this out where any Greyhound employees
could see you. You might find that completing as many questions as possible on the
bus is the best time to avoid detection. The more detail you can provide is always
appreciated. When the answer is “no,” please try to provide us with more information.
Once you arrive at your destination, you will have 7 days to complete the survey online.After the 7th day, we will not accept the survey and you will not get half of your ticketprice back. To process your survey online, please go to
http://www.greyhound.com/mysterytraveler. When you process your survey online, you
will receive a confirmation that the form is validated and you will get half of your ticketprice back. If you took a round trip, please tell us only about your return tripOnce again, thank you and enjoy your trip!
Mystery Traveler Terms & Conditions
To participate in the Mystery Travel Program, you agree to:
• Purchase a Greyhound ticket on www.greyhound.com
• Travel on the schedules and dates specified on the ticket (no changes allowed)
• Print the survey form and use your best efforts to 1) complete the survey honestly and 2) keep your participation anonymous.
To get half of your ticket price back, you are required to:
• Enter your survey results and confirmation number at the web address on the survey form within seven days of your departure
date
• Comply with all applicable laws, regulations and policies regarding bus travel
• You may participate in the Mystery Traveler Program only once
Upon verified completion of your survey, Greyhound will give you half of your ticket price back and will-call fee amounts (not
including any excess baggage or other fees) to your credit card. Greyhound may modify or cancel this program at any time.
Those interested can now get half-off tickets by participating in Greyhound's mystery traveler program. While the details of my participating are highly sensitive and not to be repeated here...you can count on some faithful reconnaissance coming soon.
Your convoluted mission:
Mystery Traveler
Thank you for participating in our Mystery Travel program! Your feedback about your
trip is valuable to Greyhound, so please tell us about the good and the bad. Make sureyou read the questions and become familiar with them before your trip. Do not at any time tell any Greyhound employee that you are a mystery traveler; we need you to
keep your anonymity at all times in order to obtain the most accurate results.
Please take these questions (and a pen) with you on your trip and complete your
answers as soon as you can. Do not fill this out where any Greyhound employees
could see you. You might find that completing as many questions as possible on the
bus is the best time to avoid detection. The more detail you can provide is always
appreciated. When the answer is “no,” please try to provide us with more information.
Once you arrive at your destination, you will have 7 days to complete the survey online.After the 7th day, we will not accept the survey and you will not get half of your ticketprice back. To process your survey online, please go to
http://www.greyhound.com/mysterytraveler. When you process your survey online, you
will receive a confirmation that the form is validated and you will get half of your ticketprice back. If you took a round trip, please tell us only about your return tripOnce again, thank you and enjoy your trip!
Mystery Traveler Terms & Conditions
To participate in the Mystery Travel Program, you agree to:
• Purchase a Greyhound ticket on www.greyhound.com
• Travel on the schedules and dates specified on the ticket (no changes allowed)
• Print the survey form and use your best efforts to 1) complete the survey honestly and 2) keep your participation anonymous.
To get half of your ticket price back, you are required to:
• Enter your survey results and confirmation number at the web address on the survey form within seven days of your departure
date
• Comply with all applicable laws, regulations and policies regarding bus travel
• You may participate in the Mystery Traveler Program only once
Upon verified completion of your survey, Greyhound will give you half of your ticket price back and will-call fee amounts (not
including any excess baggage or other fees) to your credit card. Greyhound may modify or cancel this program at any time.
Saturday, April 5, 2008
Arthur Frommer Online, Riding Our Coattails to DC
Arthur Frommer Online: I just have to return to the news about the additional $1-a-ride (but usually $15) cut-rate bus lines
Are you challenging us, Arthur Frommer?
We write about cheap bus travel. Stick to your travel guides, sir.
[Ed. note - We will keep track of A.F keeping tracking of cheap bus travel]
Arthur Frommer Online: I just have to return to the news about the additional $1-a-ride (but usually $15) cut-rate bus lines
I just have to return to the news about the additional $1-a-ride (but usually $15) cut-rate bus lines
Just as Southwest Airlines, Skybus, Spirit Airlines, and other upstarts have revolutionized the pricing of air transportation in America (as Ryanair and easyJet did in Britain and Europe), we are now witnessing a similar upheaval in ground transportation within the U.S. Although I dealt with this subject yesterday, it's important enough to warrant further discussion today.
First, I neglected to mention yesterday that the new Megabus (www.megabus.com) service from New York will also go to Atlantic City, the difference being that the casino-bound buses will leave from the Port Authority Terminal on 42nd Street rather than from the northwest street corner of West 31st Street and Eighth Avenue (to Buffalo, Toronto, Boston, Washington, D.C., Philadelphia and Baltimore). And I should also have emphasized, more than I did, that from its hub in Chicago, Megabus also services every Midwest city of note. Added to its service from Los Angeles, Megabus will (as of May 30, the start-up of its New York service) deal with a large percentage of the American population in their routine transportation needs.
In doing so, Megabus joins DC2NY, a hip bus service on which free mineral water and wi-fi service are featured; it joins Bolt Bus (the Greyhound subsidiary that services only New York-to-Boston presently, but will obviously expand to many, many more cities in the coming months); and it joins the several "Chinatown" services (so-called because they drive from one Chinatown to another) like Fung Wah and others.
So here's an excellent alternative to the overly-expensive airplanes and trains to which we've been relegated in the past. Shuttle flights from New York to Boston or Washington, D.C., already cost more than $150 each way, and the cheaper Amtrak services between the same cities will almost always cost as much as $89 each way. (The speedier "Acela" trains charge as much as a shuttle flight.)
So will Americans flock to the new cut-rate buses? It's a matter of psychology. We've been trained to regard inter-city buses as something for the poor; and indeed, if you scan the people in an average bus station, you rarely see lawyers-with-briefcases or graduate students-with-laptops. But that's about to change. The fact that the new cut-rate buses will offer such amenities as power outlets at each seat is a powerful new improvement in transportation and will win many persons over from the higher-priced planes and trains.
Let me also stress that if you make your bookings right away on the new Megabus services, you stand a good chance of snaring a $1 ticket. Yesterday, an associate of mine booked a 50¢ round-trip on Megabus between New York and Philadelphia (for post-May 30 dates). And $1-and-up tickets are presently available on Megabus and Bolt Bus on all the other services they either presently operate or are about to commence.
All you cost-conscious travelers: this is a Mega development! Go to the websites of the bus lines I've named above and begin following the story over the weeks to come. We are on the brink of something big in travel.
Are you challenging us, Arthur Frommer?
We write about cheap bus travel. Stick to your travel guides, sir.
[Ed. note - We will keep track of A.F keeping tracking of cheap bus travel]
Arthur Frommer Online: I just have to return to the news about the additional $1-a-ride (but usually $15) cut-rate bus lines
I just have to return to the news about the additional $1-a-ride (but usually $15) cut-rate bus lines
Just as Southwest Airlines, Skybus, Spirit Airlines, and other upstarts have revolutionized the pricing of air transportation in America (as Ryanair and easyJet did in Britain and Europe), we are now witnessing a similar upheaval in ground transportation within the U.S. Although I dealt with this subject yesterday, it's important enough to warrant further discussion today.
First, I neglected to mention yesterday that the new Megabus (www.megabus.com) service from New York will also go to Atlantic City, the difference being that the casino-bound buses will leave from the Port Authority Terminal on 42nd Street rather than from the northwest street corner of West 31st Street and Eighth Avenue (to Buffalo, Toronto, Boston, Washington, D.C., Philadelphia and Baltimore). And I should also have emphasized, more than I did, that from its hub in Chicago, Megabus also services every Midwest city of note. Added to its service from Los Angeles, Megabus will (as of May 30, the start-up of its New York service) deal with a large percentage of the American population in their routine transportation needs.
In doing so, Megabus joins DC2NY, a hip bus service on which free mineral water and wi-fi service are featured; it joins Bolt Bus (the Greyhound subsidiary that services only New York-to-Boston presently, but will obviously expand to many, many more cities in the coming months); and it joins the several "Chinatown" services (so-called because they drive from one Chinatown to another) like Fung Wah and others.
So here's an excellent alternative to the overly-expensive airplanes and trains to which we've been relegated in the past. Shuttle flights from New York to Boston or Washington, D.C., already cost more than $150 each way, and the cheaper Amtrak services between the same cities will almost always cost as much as $89 each way. (The speedier "Acela" trains charge as much as a shuttle flight.)
So will Americans flock to the new cut-rate buses? It's a matter of psychology. We've been trained to regard inter-city buses as something for the poor; and indeed, if you scan the people in an average bus station, you rarely see lawyers-with-briefcases or graduate students-with-laptops. But that's about to change. The fact that the new cut-rate buses will offer such amenities as power outlets at each seat is a powerful new improvement in transportation and will win many persons over from the higher-priced planes and trains.
Let me also stress that if you make your bookings right away on the new Megabus services, you stand a good chance of snaring a $1 ticket. Yesterday, an associate of mine booked a 50¢ round-trip on Megabus between New York and Philadelphia (for post-May 30 dates). And $1-and-up tickets are presently available on Megabus and Bolt Bus on all the other services they either presently operate or are about to commence.
All you cost-conscious travelers: this is a Mega development! Go to the websites of the bus lines I've named above and begin following the story over the weeks to come. We are on the brink of something big in travel.
Maiden Voyage
First time on the Bolt bus, and I am a nervous about the possibility of the Bolt Bus not actually existing, and this $1 fare was a way to get my credit card number. I worry that I won't find the bus on 33rd and 7th. I even tried to plan to dry run a few weekends back, so I could find the street and remember key landmarks. M thought that was unnecessary. As I get off the train, I see it. The Bolt Bus. Snazzier than the Greyhound. Bright orange and shiny.
I talk to the bus driver, and he offers to put my bag in the bus. He moves the bus because he can't keep it parked there. I worry that I won't find the bus at the 5:30 boarding time.
I have some time to waste. I notice that on the street is a deli, a peep show, a Sbarro's, and nestled in between -- Fantasma. A magical toy store. Advertising Continuos Live Magic Shows. I take a cell-phone photo and immediately send it to M and P, challenging them to guess what the stores actually sells.
I figure that I have the time, so I walk up the many flights of stairs to the store. I expect a peep show, I expect a bizarre mix of magic tricks and nudity. I plan to walk in the door -- heavy and grey with the words Stage Door 1 painted on it -- and peek in, see what I see, and text M and P that I found a magic-themed peep show.
I open the door. Magic Shop. I saw a card trick. I bought fake poop. I went on my way.
Disappointed. A magic store is not funny enough to text about. I do anyway. Also, I write about it.
I talk to someone else who is waiting. She has never been to DC before, never been on a bus. I give some tips, and share my excitement about the new bus line.
The bus arrives, and I am one of the first on. The driver checks our print-out tickets. The bus was mostly empty. I chose a seat, but then two women sat behind me. I moved my seat, because I don't want to listen to their conversation for 4 hours. Never had the Greyhound offered me such an opportunity.
I move to a seat closer to the back, left side of the bus. My seat has an electrical outlet. I plug in my portable DVD player, even though it was fully charged.
The seats were comfortable, very clean -- not leather as advertised. So much leg room, I even took a picture. No one sat next to me. I watched my Netflix, I read, I texted. No smells, no babies, no complaints, no rest stops.
I used the bathroom. Clean! And it was not a big hole with everything sloshing around visibly underneath. It was air-plane style. And had real toliet paper. No hand sanitizer though, but I carry my own.
The ride was quiet and quick, comparatively.
Walk off the bus at 11th and G. No train ride after that. No cab. I meet M and walk home.
Sunday:
1:00 Bolt Bus. Walked to the bus. Bought coffee. A big crowd is gathered. Some people have tickets for a later time but try to get on this bus. They succeed.
Crowded bus this trip, but I manage to sit alone. I plan to charge my phone, but I left it at M's. I plug in my DVD player.
People are loud this trip. I read a magazine. I smell stinky food, it's always someone. It's the person two seats in front of me. I now hate her.
A man sitting across from me keeps pounding on his chest, loudly. I stare. His companion reaches over, and also pounds on his chest. He just doesn't stop. He pounds on and off for the whole ride.
Bathroom has hand sanitizer this time.
Due to traffic, we detoured into NJ. It added some time to the trip and I got antsy. Almost at 33rd and 7th, and a moving truck is blocking the street. The movers try to convince the driver to squeeze through. He refuses. After minutes of arguing, the driver says, "That's why you drive a truck, and I drive a $450,000 bus. A safe driver, which is not always guaranteed on some forms of DC-NY travel. I approve. Other riders complain about the long ride. I do, but I know that I'll be back.
Better than regular Greyhound in all areas.
Photos to be posted soon.
I talk to the bus driver, and he offers to put my bag in the bus. He moves the bus because he can't keep it parked there. I worry that I won't find the bus at the 5:30 boarding time.
I have some time to waste. I notice that on the street is a deli, a peep show, a Sbarro's, and nestled in between -- Fantasma. A magical toy store. Advertising Continuos Live Magic Shows. I take a cell-phone photo and immediately send it to M and P, challenging them to guess what the stores actually sells.
I figure that I have the time, so I walk up the many flights of stairs to the store. I expect a peep show, I expect a bizarre mix of magic tricks and nudity. I plan to walk in the door -- heavy and grey with the words Stage Door 1 painted on it -- and peek in, see what I see, and text M and P that I found a magic-themed peep show.
I open the door. Magic Shop. I saw a card trick. I bought fake poop. I went on my way.
Disappointed. A magic store is not funny enough to text about. I do anyway. Also, I write about it.
I talk to someone else who is waiting. She has never been to DC before, never been on a bus. I give some tips, and share my excitement about the new bus line.
The bus arrives, and I am one of the first on. The driver checks our print-out tickets. The bus was mostly empty. I chose a seat, but then two women sat behind me. I moved my seat, because I don't want to listen to their conversation for 4 hours. Never had the Greyhound offered me such an opportunity.
I move to a seat closer to the back, left side of the bus. My seat has an electrical outlet. I plug in my portable DVD player, even though it was fully charged.
The seats were comfortable, very clean -- not leather as advertised. So much leg room, I even took a picture. No one sat next to me. I watched my Netflix, I read, I texted. No smells, no babies, no complaints, no rest stops.
I used the bathroom. Clean! And it was not a big hole with everything sloshing around visibly underneath. It was air-plane style. And had real toliet paper. No hand sanitizer though, but I carry my own.
The ride was quiet and quick, comparatively.
Walk off the bus at 11th and G. No train ride after that. No cab. I meet M and walk home.
Sunday:
1:00 Bolt Bus. Walked to the bus. Bought coffee. A big crowd is gathered. Some people have tickets for a later time but try to get on this bus. They succeed.
Crowded bus this trip, but I manage to sit alone. I plan to charge my phone, but I left it at M's. I plug in my DVD player.
People are loud this trip. I read a magazine. I smell stinky food, it's always someone. It's the person two seats in front of me. I now hate her.
A man sitting across from me keeps pounding on his chest, loudly. I stare. His companion reaches over, and also pounds on his chest. He just doesn't stop. He pounds on and off for the whole ride.
Bathroom has hand sanitizer this time.
Due to traffic, we detoured into NJ. It added some time to the trip and I got antsy. Almost at 33rd and 7th, and a moving truck is blocking the street. The movers try to convince the driver to squeeze through. He refuses. After minutes of arguing, the driver says, "That's why you drive a truck, and I drive a $450,000 bus. A safe driver, which is not always guaranteed on some forms of DC-NY travel. I approve. Other riders complain about the long ride. I do, but I know that I'll be back.
Better than regular Greyhound in all areas.
Photos to be posted soon.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
competence, etc.
You should know that while writing this, I have high hopes of this being one of the last greyhound trips I have to take. And if it’s not actually my last, which is probably more accurate, I cherish the thought of a shift from habitual to sporadic.
I am not the kind of rider that people strike up conversations with. I am not interested, frankly. This should not be deemed as superiority nor general unfriendliness. When I board the bus, I have a mission in mind; a schedule of things I’ve liked to have read, written or watched by the time I leave. Casual conversation just does not fit. Although I did see a man who matched the description of a leprechaun pirate (long red beard, pirate-like doo rag, luminous pot/cauldron) on the queue to Philadelphia. Him, I would have talked to. Anything short of this kind of fantastical hybrid and I’m not interested.
I am consistently shocked to see how foreign of a concept this is for other travelers, however. Take the gentleman behind me, who because of his boisterous demeanor, I have discovered recently came to the US from Pakistan. If I had to guess his hobbies, they would include talking loudly on a cell phone and interrupting other people’s train of thought. He is seated next to a rather disinterested woman content to both close her eyes when the conversation drifts and stare out the window longingly. Our astute conversationalist seizes the opportunity to talk to someone who is not on his cell phone and begins a dialogue that can only be described as “chatting her up.” It is one of those conversations that swirl widely and I gradually become impressed at his ability to get so much out of her. My assigned text eventually gets cast aside and I soon begin to snoop, an activity that L is known famously for, even at the detriment of creating interesting discussions of our own. The woman is going to New York to see her “ex-flame” whose birthday happens to be today. She is feeling conflicted about making such a visit but there’s “something in her heart that tells her to go to him.” I envy her impetuousness and wonder where our male friend will take the conversation from here. Considering the current circumstances, retrieving a number seems unlikely if not impossible. His tactic of questioning her love is predictable and met with a decent amount of resistance and is an amateur move since this declaration of sentiment requires involving herself in a 5 hour bus ride. Our man is persistent but the immediacy of the exchange is now long gone and I am left listening to the come on’s of man who is clearly out of his league. He has done his best. There is always the way back home to consider.
The trip to Washington provided another similar conversation in that it was loud enough for even those not meticulously collecting anecdotes to blog about later might take notice. Two riders had somehow discovered they were both British and just like that an ex-pat bond was formed. This led to an exchange filled with reminiscing that is a consistently unpleasant and exclusionary activity that rears its ugly head at least once in any given large social interaction. (“You grew up in Chattanooga too!? Did you go to East Ridge High-School? Did you know…”) Although I never quite mustered up the energy to take notice of the nuts and bolts, lots of flirty giggling ensued. I then decided that next to a wailing toddler that this might be the most aggravating noise imaginable on a Coach bus. This is no place for mating. Just ask the guy in the back.
-m
I am not the kind of rider that people strike up conversations with. I am not interested, frankly. This should not be deemed as superiority nor general unfriendliness. When I board the bus, I have a mission in mind; a schedule of things I’ve liked to have read, written or watched by the time I leave. Casual conversation just does not fit. Although I did see a man who matched the description of a leprechaun pirate (long red beard, pirate-like doo rag, luminous pot/cauldron) on the queue to Philadelphia. Him, I would have talked to. Anything short of this kind of fantastical hybrid and I’m not interested.
I am consistently shocked to see how foreign of a concept this is for other travelers, however. Take the gentleman behind me, who because of his boisterous demeanor, I have discovered recently came to the US from Pakistan. If I had to guess his hobbies, they would include talking loudly on a cell phone and interrupting other people’s train of thought. He is seated next to a rather disinterested woman content to both close her eyes when the conversation drifts and stare out the window longingly. Our astute conversationalist seizes the opportunity to talk to someone who is not on his cell phone and begins a dialogue that can only be described as “chatting her up.” It is one of those conversations that swirl widely and I gradually become impressed at his ability to get so much out of her. My assigned text eventually gets cast aside and I soon begin to snoop, an activity that L is known famously for, even at the detriment of creating interesting discussions of our own. The woman is going to New York to see her “ex-flame” whose birthday happens to be today. She is feeling conflicted about making such a visit but there’s “something in her heart that tells her to go to him.” I envy her impetuousness and wonder where our male friend will take the conversation from here. Considering the current circumstances, retrieving a number seems unlikely if not impossible. His tactic of questioning her love is predictable and met with a decent amount of resistance and is an amateur move since this declaration of sentiment requires involving herself in a 5 hour bus ride. Our man is persistent but the immediacy of the exchange is now long gone and I am left listening to the come on’s of man who is clearly out of his league. He has done his best. There is always the way back home to consider.
The trip to Washington provided another similar conversation in that it was loud enough for even those not meticulously collecting anecdotes to blog about later might take notice. Two riders had somehow discovered they were both British and just like that an ex-pat bond was formed. This led to an exchange filled with reminiscing that is a consistently unpleasant and exclusionary activity that rears its ugly head at least once in any given large social interaction. (“You grew up in Chattanooga too!? Did you go to East Ridge High-School? Did you know…”) Although I never quite mustered up the energy to take notice of the nuts and bolts, lots of flirty giggling ensued. I then decided that next to a wailing toddler that this might be the most aggravating noise imaginable on a Coach bus. This is no place for mating. Just ask the guy in the back.
-m
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
The cat is out of the bag (Today's NY TIMES)
New York to Boston for $1? Yes, for Some Who Call Early
By KEN BELSON
Published: March 25, 2008
For travelers who want to get from New York to Boston for less than it would cost for a cup of coffee at Starbucks, two emerging bus lines may have the answer.
Megabus.com plans to announce on Tuesday that it will begin service between New York and seven other East Coast cities starting on May 30.
Two-year-old Megabus.com, a subsidiary of Coach USA, is based in Paramus, N.J., and is structured much like Southwest and other low-cost airlines. Tickets are sold on the Internet and by telephone, with the best deals for those who buy tickets the earliest. The first seats on the runs between New York and Boston sell for as little as $1, for one-way fares, with prices rising to as high as $14 as the departure date approaches.
Megabus.com’s announcement comes three weeks after a news came from another bus company, BoltBus, a division of Greyhound, that it would introduce similar services between New York, Boston and Washington, also starting at $1 a fare. Prices rise to as much as $25 for a one-way fare between New York and Washington.
Megabus.com buses are outfitted with movie screens and free wireless Internet connections, and customers can book tickets on the company’s Web site with cellphones or BlackBerry smart phones. The company runs only express routes between cities; buses stop only occasionally so drivers can take a break.
“We don’t make stops five or six times along the way, which makes us similar to driving your car,” said Dale Moser, president of Megabus.com, a sister company of the Gray Line New York Sightseeing bus line. “And you’re guaranteed a seat.”
A BoltBus official said the company would not be outdone by Megabus.com. BoltBus “is the best of all worlds in terms of extreme value and on-board service, with three inches of extra leg room and electrical outlets at every seat,” said Dustin Clark, a company spokesman.
Megabus.com buses to Baltimore, Buffalo, Boston, Philadelphia, Toronto and Washington will pick up and drop off passengers on the northeast corner of Eighth Avenue and West 31st Street, outside Pennsylvania Station. Buses to Atlantic City will leave from the Port Authority Bus Terminal nine blocks north. The company will operate 11 departures a day to Boston and Washington.
Both the BoltBus and Megabus.com fares are far below regular, nonrefundable Greyhound tickets, which run $33 for a one-way ticket between Boston and New York.
To introduce riders to its service, Megabus.com plans to offer free tickets to customers who book reservations for May 30 to June 5.
More than 900,000 customers have ridden on Megabus.com to and from its two existing hubs, Chicago and Los Angeles, which now serve 22 other cities, Mr. Moser said.
He added that with airlines adding fuel surcharges and gasoline prices rising, travelers who do not typically ride buses might look at his service.
About 35 percent of the company’s customers are young professionals from 18 to 30, and another 30 percent are women from 30 to 55 who do not want to drive into the city, Mr. Moser said. Another 19 percent are what he called “silver surfers,” elderly passengers who want to visit family and friends and often travel during nonpeak periods.
Transportation experts say that to succeed in New York, Megabus.com needs to make bus travel more alluring and dispel the notion that it is for people who cannot afford trains or planes, or do not own a car. To do that, the company must convince customers that it offers better service than other bus companies.
“There’s certainly the perception that buses are for poor people and people without cars,” said Jeffrey M. Zupan, a senior fellow for transportation at the Regional Plan Association. “The way they’ll overcome it is to provide a first-class service. Give people a newspaper and cappuccino to create the feeling they are not second-class citizens.
By KEN BELSON
Published: March 25, 2008
For travelers who want to get from New York to Boston for less than it would cost for a cup of coffee at Starbucks, two emerging bus lines may have the answer.
Megabus.com plans to announce on Tuesday that it will begin service between New York and seven other East Coast cities starting on May 30.
Two-year-old Megabus.com, a subsidiary of Coach USA, is based in Paramus, N.J., and is structured much like Southwest and other low-cost airlines. Tickets are sold on the Internet and by telephone, with the best deals for those who buy tickets the earliest. The first seats on the runs between New York and Boston sell for as little as $1, for one-way fares, with prices rising to as high as $14 as the departure date approaches.
Megabus.com’s announcement comes three weeks after a news came from another bus company, BoltBus, a division of Greyhound, that it would introduce similar services between New York, Boston and Washington, also starting at $1 a fare. Prices rise to as much as $25 for a one-way fare between New York and Washington.
Megabus.com buses are outfitted with movie screens and free wireless Internet connections, and customers can book tickets on the company’s Web site with cellphones or BlackBerry smart phones. The company runs only express routes between cities; buses stop only occasionally so drivers can take a break.
“We don’t make stops five or six times along the way, which makes us similar to driving your car,” said Dale Moser, president of Megabus.com, a sister company of the Gray Line New York Sightseeing bus line. “And you’re guaranteed a seat.”
A BoltBus official said the company would not be outdone by Megabus.com. BoltBus “is the best of all worlds in terms of extreme value and on-board service, with three inches of extra leg room and electrical outlets at every seat,” said Dustin Clark, a company spokesman.
Megabus.com buses to Baltimore, Buffalo, Boston, Philadelphia, Toronto and Washington will pick up and drop off passengers on the northeast corner of Eighth Avenue and West 31st Street, outside Pennsylvania Station. Buses to Atlantic City will leave from the Port Authority Bus Terminal nine blocks north. The company will operate 11 departures a day to Boston and Washington.
Both the BoltBus and Megabus.com fares are far below regular, nonrefundable Greyhound tickets, which run $33 for a one-way ticket between Boston and New York.
To introduce riders to its service, Megabus.com plans to offer free tickets to customers who book reservations for May 30 to June 5.
More than 900,000 customers have ridden on Megabus.com to and from its two existing hubs, Chicago and Los Angeles, which now serve 22 other cities, Mr. Moser said.
He added that with airlines adding fuel surcharges and gasoline prices rising, travelers who do not typically ride buses might look at his service.
About 35 percent of the company’s customers are young professionals from 18 to 30, and another 30 percent are women from 30 to 55 who do not want to drive into the city, Mr. Moser said. Another 19 percent are what he called “silver surfers,” elderly passengers who want to visit family and friends and often travel during nonpeak periods.
Transportation experts say that to succeed in New York, Megabus.com needs to make bus travel more alluring and dispel the notion that it is for people who cannot afford trains or planes, or do not own a car. To do that, the company must convince customers that it offers better service than other bus companies.
“There’s certainly the perception that buses are for poor people and people without cars,” said Jeffrey M. Zupan, a senior fellow for transportation at the Regional Plan Association. “The way they’ll overcome it is to provide a first-class service. Give people a newspaper and cappuccino to create the feeling they are not second-class citizens.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
...and now for something completely similar
I feel compelled to address the announcement of the Bolt Bus, greyhound's new anti-Chinatown service that promises reduced prices, leather seats, wireless internet and electrical outlets. I'll admit that the day I first read about it, I was physically unable to concentrate on anything else, having bought tickets on this unseen yet miraculous vessel well into June. God bless free-market competition! I don't think I mean that.
BUT! Being trailblazers of the Mid-Atlantic travel that we are, you will read everything there is to know about the Bolt Bus here first! Its official debut review will be in two weeks by Lori has the distinct and prestegious pleasure of taking the inagural greyblog trip. I must admit to not reporting this news sooner out of selfish reasons, mainly I wanted to ensure that L and I bought all of our tickets first. I am sorry dear readers, but as Shirley MacLaine said in The Apartment, "that's the way it crumbles...cookie-wise"
BUT! Being trailblazers of the Mid-Atlantic travel that we are, you will read everything there is to know about the Bolt Bus here first! Its official debut review will be in two weeks by Lori has the distinct and prestegious pleasure of taking the inagural greyblog trip. I must admit to not reporting this news sooner out of selfish reasons, mainly I wanted to ensure that L and I bought all of our tickets first. I am sorry dear readers, but as Shirley MacLaine said in The Apartment, "that's the way it crumbles...cookie-wise"
always never again
An engagement led me elsewhere this past week, into the great unknown of Apex's Chinatown bus service. Without the discounted online prices of the greyhound NYC-DC fares, trips to Philadelphia require a different kind of coach.
In the past, I've been known to compare Chinatown buses to a modern-day equivalent of riding a boxcar although I'm pretty sure that never ever cost anyone thirty dollars. Either way, these buses are a disarmingly disorganized means of traveling especially after becoming accustomed to the degradation that comes with the greyhound bus company and their employees.
Don't get me wrong-a traveler is not necessarily valued within this urine soaked bus, in fact the drivers and ticket collectors could be described as even more spirited. The key difference is that the Chinatown bus attitude is more of a disrespect that stems from indifference instead of the outright contempt you'll find from Peter Pan. It might sound like a small difference but here at the greyblog we like to pick up on these context clues.
As I sit in my seat, most passengers seem confused as to where exactly the bus is going. Remarks are made about it going to Philadelphia while others hope New York. Miraculously it goes both places while also making a stop in Baltimore. Everybody wins? There's a sweet vulnerability in watching confused adults ask questions about where a bus they've already boarded is heading. Why did the board without knowing? They resemble those children who overslept on the school bus whose driver was not attentive in checking for them. They simply believe in the fact that they will get to their destination, somehow...maybe.
My absolute favorite part of the experience was our stop in Baltimore which wasn't so much a stop in the city itself but instead the parking lot of a Buck Horn family restaurant. Here people gather on top of a mound of dirt (!!!) and wait for the bus. I can't even imagine how this specific locale was initially chosen or how people can properly eyeball which mound of dirt to congregate to if they are the first person to arrive-I can only speculate. Perhaps those from Baltimore just have an eye for these kinds of things. As our new Baltimore friends join us, the driver exits the bus for a nice relaxing smoke. He is then seen chatting away with another driver as time slowly passes. 15 minutes...still chattin! For such a disgruntled man he seemed to become quite gregarious when in the right company!
It smells like jalapenos and somehow the trip takes just as long to get to Philadelphia as it does to New York, a city which to my knowledge is two hours further north. This might have something to do with the bus going exceedingly slow which leads me to text my friend in Philadelphia that the bus is driving "as if it had a dirty diaper." This kind of slow plodding apparently leads me to make unsavory metaphors. If appreciation for Greyhound once seemed illogical, it quickly became a reality.
-m
In the past, I've been known to compare Chinatown buses to a modern-day equivalent of riding a boxcar although I'm pretty sure that never ever cost anyone thirty dollars. Either way, these buses are a disarmingly disorganized means of traveling especially after becoming accustomed to the degradation that comes with the greyhound bus company and their employees.
Don't get me wrong-a traveler is not necessarily valued within this urine soaked bus, in fact the drivers and ticket collectors could be described as even more spirited. The key difference is that the Chinatown bus attitude is more of a disrespect that stems from indifference instead of the outright contempt you'll find from Peter Pan. It might sound like a small difference but here at the greyblog we like to pick up on these context clues.
As I sit in my seat, most passengers seem confused as to where exactly the bus is going. Remarks are made about it going to Philadelphia while others hope New York. Miraculously it goes both places while also making a stop in Baltimore. Everybody wins? There's a sweet vulnerability in watching confused adults ask questions about where a bus they've already boarded is heading. Why did the board without knowing? They resemble those children who overslept on the school bus whose driver was not attentive in checking for them. They simply believe in the fact that they will get to their destination, somehow...maybe.
My absolute favorite part of the experience was our stop in Baltimore which wasn't so much a stop in the city itself but instead the parking lot of a Buck Horn family restaurant. Here people gather on top of a mound of dirt (!!!) and wait for the bus. I can't even imagine how this specific locale was initially chosen or how people can properly eyeball which mound of dirt to congregate to if they are the first person to arrive-I can only speculate. Perhaps those from Baltimore just have an eye for these kinds of things. As our new Baltimore friends join us, the driver exits the bus for a nice relaxing smoke. He is then seen chatting away with another driver as time slowly passes. 15 minutes...still chattin! For such a disgruntled man he seemed to become quite gregarious when in the right company!
It smells like jalapenos and somehow the trip takes just as long to get to Philadelphia as it does to New York, a city which to my knowledge is two hours further north. This might have something to do with the bus going exceedingly slow which leads me to text my friend in Philadelphia that the bus is driving "as if it had a dirty diaper." This kind of slow plodding apparently leads me to make unsavory metaphors. If appreciation for Greyhound once seemed illogical, it quickly became a reality.
-m
Sunday, March 9, 2008
Rest Stop/Side of the Road Stop City
Girl behind me on line for bus seems to be in the midst of a serious situation. There are tears, discussions of prescriptions called in, of having enough medication to make it, of this morning being almost too much to handle. I plan to not sit near this girl.
12:01 bus from DC to NY. I almost didn't make the 12:01 bus. Three people ahead of me, and the driver announces that the bus is full. He asks if anyone is "riding single." I raise my hand, M pushes me to the front of the line, ticket is ripped, and I'm the last one to board. Second row, aisle seat.
The overhead is full. I manage.
I see an abundance of seats. The first rows behind the driver are empty, and most people are sitting sans seatmate. Bus driver even says that the bus so empty that if we, the people in the front, wanted to talk on our phones, we should sit towards the back.
Full, empty. Liars at Greyhound. I could have been made to wait another hour for next bus because this bus driver wanted less people on the bus. I probably have been made to wait another hour for the bus because a bus driver wanted less people on the bus.
We drive. It's only 12:56.
My seatmate is quiet. She enjoys listening to music, drinking Ethos water, and eating sandwiches.
One rest stop. In Maryland, an hour into our trip. I buy a travel mug that will let the world know (a) Don't bother me, I'm crabby and (b) I made a purchase in Maryland.
I text M, I text P and plan a trip to visit her next weekend, via car.
I watch the next two episodes of Picket Fences, Season One, Disc One. I watch the last two episodes of 30 Rock, Season One, Disc One. I study.
Bus driver pulls over, gets out, and adjusts side-view mirror. Loudmouth Married Woman repeatedly tells her husband that we have a flat tire. I worry slightly, and ready myself to text M and complain. We continue.
Bus driver pulls over immediately before the Tunnel, and walks to the bathroom.
I had previously noticed on my attempt to use the bathroom that the door does not fully close, and the light will not go on because the door does not fully close. I also noticed that a broken door did not deter someone from spreading poo all over the seat and mirror. Both noted, I make my back to my seat, I slowly walk to my seat, holding the backs of chairs as the safety video tells us to, and try to figure out who did that to the bathroom. No one stands out as a suspect. I can only rule out myself, my seatmate, and the man across the aisle in Columbia Football sweatpants, and his seatmate.
4:00, I am the first one off the bus.
I thank the bus driver, and I realize that my next bus ride to DC will not be on a Greyhound.
It's been several hundred accident-free miles with you.
12:01 bus from DC to NY. I almost didn't make the 12:01 bus. Three people ahead of me, and the driver announces that the bus is full. He asks if anyone is "riding single." I raise my hand, M pushes me to the front of the line, ticket is ripped, and I'm the last one to board. Second row, aisle seat.
The overhead is full. I manage.
I see an abundance of seats. The first rows behind the driver are empty, and most people are sitting sans seatmate. Bus driver even says that the bus so empty that if we, the people in the front, wanted to talk on our phones, we should sit towards the back.
Full, empty. Liars at Greyhound. I could have been made to wait another hour for next bus because this bus driver wanted less people on the bus. I probably have been made to wait another hour for the bus because a bus driver wanted less people on the bus.
We drive. It's only 12:56.
My seatmate is quiet. She enjoys listening to music, drinking Ethos water, and eating sandwiches.
One rest stop. In Maryland, an hour into our trip. I buy a travel mug that will let the world know (a) Don't bother me, I'm crabby and (b) I made a purchase in Maryland.
I text M, I text P and plan a trip to visit her next weekend, via car.
I watch the next two episodes of Picket Fences, Season One, Disc One. I watch the last two episodes of 30 Rock, Season One, Disc One. I study.
Bus driver pulls over, gets out, and adjusts side-view mirror. Loudmouth Married Woman repeatedly tells her husband that we have a flat tire. I worry slightly, and ready myself to text M and complain. We continue.
Bus driver pulls over immediately before the Tunnel, and walks to the bathroom.
I had previously noticed on my attempt to use the bathroom that the door does not fully close, and the light will not go on because the door does not fully close. I also noticed that a broken door did not deter someone from spreading poo all over the seat and mirror. Both noted, I make my back to my seat, I slowly walk to my seat, holding the backs of chairs as the safety video tells us to, and try to figure out who did that to the bathroom. No one stands out as a suspect. I can only rule out myself, my seatmate, and the man across the aisle in Columbia Football sweatpants, and his seatmate.
4:00, I am the first one off the bus.
I thank the bus driver, and I realize that my next bus ride to DC will not be on a Greyhound.
It's been several hundred accident-free miles with you.
Saturday, March 8, 2008
ticket to (not) ride
6:30 bus from New York to DC. Third row - right side of the bus - window seat. I used the overhead compartment. I'm aboard the "Pirate Ship," a nickname designated to my vessel by the Peter Pan Bus company.
Seatmate was a quiet man who enjoys sleeping and staring at his hands. Child in the seat in front of me -- so quiet I didn't know he was there until I saw his reflection in the window, and we were near Baltimore by then. The ideal Greyhound child.
I watched two Netflix - Freaks and The Green Butchers. Watched the pilot episode of Picket Fences. Studied.
Ride was fast, uneventful, and quiet.
Rainy, but fast. No rest stops, and that's the way I like it.
I wanted to take a cab from the bus station in DC to my destination.
The cab drivers usually gather outside the doors, and solicit for rides. Bother you about rides, ask where you are going even if you don't want a cab, demand to know where you live.
Not this time. Not this night. Not so easy.
Two cab drivers pull up and ask me where I am going. I tell them, and they respond by shaking their heads. No. No. No, they will not drive me. Another cab driver didn't respond, but didn't drive away. I take that as a "Get in. " I walk to the car...and he pulls away. Fairway Cab Association...I'll remember. I hold grudges.
One cab driver said yes, and then went to find MORE people to drive, and that annoyed me. I waited over 5 minutes for him to come back. He found no other eligible passengers. He'd take me "anyway." I told him that I would wait for another cab, he seemed shocked. Riders have dignity, sir. I don't want to be your last-choice passenger.
Eventually I got a cab with two other people. $7.50 plus tip.
-l
Seatmate was a quiet man who enjoys sleeping and staring at his hands. Child in the seat in front of me -- so quiet I didn't know he was there until I saw his reflection in the window, and we were near Baltimore by then. The ideal Greyhound child.
I watched two Netflix - Freaks and The Green Butchers. Watched the pilot episode of Picket Fences. Studied.
Ride was fast, uneventful, and quiet.
Rainy, but fast. No rest stops, and that's the way I like it.
I wanted to take a cab from the bus station in DC to my destination.
The cab drivers usually gather outside the doors, and solicit for rides. Bother you about rides, ask where you are going even if you don't want a cab, demand to know where you live.
Not this time. Not this night. Not so easy.
Two cab drivers pull up and ask me where I am going. I tell them, and they respond by shaking their heads. No. No. No, they will not drive me. Another cab driver didn't respond, but didn't drive away. I take that as a "Get in. " I walk to the car...and he pulls away. Fairway Cab Association...I'll remember. I hold grudges.
One cab driver said yes, and then went to find MORE people to drive, and that annoyed me. I waited over 5 minutes for him to come back. He found no other eligible passengers. He'd take me "anyway." I told him that I would wait for another cab, he seemed shocked. Riders have dignity, sir. I don't want to be your last-choice passenger.
Eventually I got a cab with two other people. $7.50 plus tip.
-l
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
king of the road
There's a psychoanalytic construct known as Thanatos that derives its origins from Greek mythology. It is believed that this so-called "death drive" impels us to engage in risky and self-destructive behavior, which ultimately equates with our desire for death. This drive is in direct opposition with the concept of Eros or the life/love force. The two are said to create a balance to which we navigate throughout our lives. One might postulate that taking a greyhound bus every 2 weeks is a means of enacting Thanatos but sometimes its even more devious, more sinister than simply the will to constantly take in the recycled air and the smell if illegally smuggled baba ganoush.
It should stand as no surprise to those who read the greyblog that I have had my fair share of obstactles when it comes to the relatively 'simple' feat of riding the bus. I've had delays and customer service incidents, but none have been more harrowing then the realization that I had erronously misplaced ticket while already at Port Authority. While ticket fares purchased online are relatively cost effective, buying a ticket at the station is not. My first experience with this situation involved furious phone calls, a 10 dollar fee and a lot of rattled nerves. Solutions were formed, promises were made.Life quickly went back to normal.
This past Sunday as I prepared to embark on my journey, jokes are made about the whereabouts of my ticket. The present company, myself included, all had a good laugh at my expense/folly. I made a remark about "learning from my mistakes," as I patted my ticket that fit snuggly in my left coat pocket. As if a scene from a film, I shook it gingerly to make sure it was there. Sadly, life does not offer a screen shot warning us of oncoming peril, no close up shot as a cue to prepare us with a sense of forboding.
As I leer in awe of the new fish tanks at the Staten Island ferry, I am oblivious to the world as I read and listen. It is not until I am on the uptown 1 when I realize that the ticket is gone. Again. My first reaction is one of shock, as if the universe (or our roving, invisible director) is in on the joke, and how I will quickly retrieve my belonging. No such luck. I quickly become one of those people on the subway who is feverishly looking through my bag, indicating to all in my proximity that something is not quite right. I am checking my pockets repeatedly and once again patting myself down as a habit every 15 seconds hoping that somehow the ticket will mysertiously reveal itself. The contents of my overnight bag is now overflowing onto places they have no right being-the floor of the filthy subway, encroaching upon my fellow subway riders, etc. Around 18th street I have accepted the fact that it is gone, thrown into the void of mass transport where some lucky (arguable?) fuck can now ride gratis to our nations capitol.
The time for mourning has concluded by the timeI arrive at the station, although the endless thoughts about how better to spend this wasted 23 dollars will swirl around in my mind for the duration of the afternoon. Lori is the first person dialed but is unavailable leaving me to discern who among my friends and family I'll have to burden this process upon. My first few candidates strike out.
This leaves me a good ten minutes where I am sitting on the floor of Port Authority with my phone plugged into the wall reading a book. I have resigned to my fate, realizing that my carefully time constructed day has gone awry and that I am now completely at the mercy of someone else's ability to gain access to the Internet. This, along with my spot on the floor, is an overall humbling experience. It is a reminder that we are all just a few slippery steps away from being the people we silently stop to look and wonder "what exactly are they doing over there?"
It is in this self-actualized, existential moment I recognize my Thanatos and suddenly realize that this is no way to live.
It should stand as no surprise to those who read the greyblog that I have had my fair share of obstactles when it comes to the relatively 'simple' feat of riding the bus. I've had delays and customer service incidents, but none have been more harrowing then the realization that I had erronously misplaced ticket while already at Port Authority. While ticket fares purchased online are relatively cost effective, buying a ticket at the station is not. My first experience with this situation involved furious phone calls, a 10 dollar fee and a lot of rattled nerves. Solutions were formed, promises were made.Life quickly went back to normal.
This past Sunday as I prepared to embark on my journey, jokes are made about the whereabouts of my ticket. The present company, myself included, all had a good laugh at my expense/folly. I made a remark about "learning from my mistakes," as I patted my ticket that fit snuggly in my left coat pocket. As if a scene from a film, I shook it gingerly to make sure it was there. Sadly, life does not offer a screen shot warning us of oncoming peril, no close up shot as a cue to prepare us with a sense of forboding.
As I leer in awe of the new fish tanks at the Staten Island ferry, I am oblivious to the world as I read and listen. It is not until I am on the uptown 1 when I realize that the ticket is gone. Again. My first reaction is one of shock, as if the universe (or our roving, invisible director) is in on the joke, and how I will quickly retrieve my belonging. No such luck. I quickly become one of those people on the subway who is feverishly looking through my bag, indicating to all in my proximity that something is not quite right. I am checking my pockets repeatedly and once again patting myself down as a habit every 15 seconds hoping that somehow the ticket will mysertiously reveal itself. The contents of my overnight bag is now overflowing onto places they have no right being-the floor of the filthy subway, encroaching upon my fellow subway riders, etc. Around 18th street I have accepted the fact that it is gone, thrown into the void of mass transport where some lucky (arguable?) fuck can now ride gratis to our nations capitol.
The time for mourning has concluded by the timeI arrive at the station, although the endless thoughts about how better to spend this wasted 23 dollars will swirl around in my mind for the duration of the afternoon. Lori is the first person dialed but is unavailable leaving me to discern who among my friends and family I'll have to burden this process upon. My first few candidates strike out.
This leaves me a good ten minutes where I am sitting on the floor of Port Authority with my phone plugged into the wall reading a book. I have resigned to my fate, realizing that my carefully time constructed day has gone awry and that I am now completely at the mercy of someone else's ability to gain access to the Internet. This, along with my spot on the floor, is an overall humbling experience. It is a reminder that we are all just a few slippery steps away from being the people we silently stop to look and wonder "what exactly are they doing over there?"
It is in this self-actualized, existential moment I recognize my Thanatos and suddenly realize that this is no way to live.
Friday, February 22, 2008
cause= time
There's a tendency (I pause in calling it 'universal' although my huntch is it's just that) for us to wonder why other people are doing things at certain times while excusing ourselves.
When stuck in traffic, phrases like "Where are all these people going!?" or "_____(enter time) on ______(day)!? And it's CROWDED!?" roll off the tounge almost mechanically. It's as if the internal fool-proof scripts we've written for ourselves have malfunctioned in the cruelest and most unexpected way. Inconceivable! How could we be so off? And don't these people have somewhere to be?
Yes, presumably where we intended on going.
In my head, I demand explanations. I scan the crowd and wondering how it is we've all gotten here when everything points to us being somewhere else.
As I wait in the queue for the 11 am Tuesday bus, my mind starts racing with these thoughts. How can there be a line for a bus mid-day on a Tuesday? Don't these people have some place to be? Why am I there, you ask? I have an alibi. A perfectly good explanation for all this, as they say.
I was enjoying a three-day weekend when I was struck ill on Sunday requiring me to prolong my stay in New York thus leaving me to take the day off (from a job! A seemingly unfamilar concept for those lurking around the Port Authority!) and ride the grey steed back to our nation's capitol on Tuesday.
My stomach virus was not an epidemic. That leaves a lot of people here with some explaining to do.
As I crunch into the back seat of the bus with two people on my side, I bemoan my fate.
11 AM on a Tuesday?! Don't these people have some place to be?
-m
When stuck in traffic, phrases like "Where are all these people going!?" or "_____(enter time) on ______(day)!? And it's CROWDED!?" roll off the tounge almost mechanically. It's as if the internal fool-proof scripts we've written for ourselves have malfunctioned in the cruelest and most unexpected way. Inconceivable! How could we be so off? And don't these people have somewhere to be?
Yes, presumably where we intended on going.
In my head, I demand explanations. I scan the crowd and wondering how it is we've all gotten here when everything points to us being somewhere else.
As I wait in the queue for the 11 am Tuesday bus, my mind starts racing with these thoughts. How can there be a line for a bus mid-day on a Tuesday? Don't these people have some place to be? Why am I there, you ask? I have an alibi. A perfectly good explanation for all this, as they say.
I was enjoying a three-day weekend when I was struck ill on Sunday requiring me to prolong my stay in New York thus leaving me to take the day off (from a job! A seemingly unfamilar concept for those lurking around the Port Authority!) and ride the grey steed back to our nation's capitol on Tuesday.
My stomach virus was not an epidemic. That leaves a lot of people here with some explaining to do.
As I crunch into the back seat of the bus with two people on my side, I bemoan my fate.
11 AM on a Tuesday?! Don't these people have some place to be?
-m
Saturday, February 16, 2008
greyhounds of love
Todays update is from a guest blogger, Ms. Pia Agrawal purveyor of our blog brethren themattsiblog.blogspot.com.
Ever since "Don't Tell Mom the Babysitter's Dead," I have been fascinated by petty cash and expense accounts. Fancy dinners with important clients! Meetings over cocktails! New pantsuits!
Enter into the world of non-profits. Wearing whatever I want to work (i.e. no coordinated separates) means sacrifices elsewhere. I do not go to top notch restaurants when I travel; I eat pizza in Penn Station. I do not stay in four star hotels; I sleep on my sister's couch. I do not take Amtrak; I take Greyhound.
Much of this is self-imposed. My department has a budget and I'm responsible for making sure everyone stays within these means. I could take Amtrak but I think: I'm young, I have a Discman, and I can save some money for the company. What a gal! What a fool.
My most recent journey started with a tofu hoagie (love) the new Hot Chip (like) and a pile of work (loathe). I need to keep myself with my head in a book because as a woman traveling alone, I've been offered sexual favors on the greyhound more often than not. Today, unfortunately, my tactic is not working. The man across the way is staring at me, then sleeping, then staring at me, then sleeping. Am I boring to look at? Then stop staring! His head, craned forward and sideways simultaneously, and pressed into the seat in front of him, never moves despite his drifting into and out of consciousness. I wonder if he even has the ability. I spend too much time thinking about this and start to feel bad that maybe his head is always stuck in that very position. Maybe the bus is the place he feels most comfortable because it provides him a place to rest his cockamamied head. That he lives a hard life of deformity and maybe I should smile back at him out of guilt. As he licks his lips slowly in my direction - an attempt at seduction? - I decide to eat my tofu hoagie as messily as possibly in an effort to turn him off. Turn his head. It works!
But now it's Karma who rears it's ugly head. I begin to regret the timing of my sandwich eating. I am getting sick because the man behind Not Actually Deformed Man has his shoes off, his socks off, and is peeling and flaking the skin on his feet off and onto the floor. He is perfectly well groomed from the ankle up and using Bluetooth technology to conduct business. Little do his colleagues know where his hands are! I am dry heaving (even now) - maybe too loudly, hoping he'll stop but he's too busy picking and flaking and wheeling and dealing. I earned this, perhaps. I disgusted NADM and now Toe Picker is disgusting me. How far back will this chain of events go? I fear the behavior of the passengers at the back of the bus.
We arrive one hour late and I'm surprised, given all the extra time, that Toe Picker hasn't exposed his lumbrical muscles.
The trip back is less repulsive but no better. It takes 90 minutes just to get to the New York side of the Tunnel and I'm being 'pssst'ed at nearly the entire time. The woman next to me is playing a dating game on her phone and it's depressing me beyond recognition. I can't drink the beer I snuck onto the bus because, ironically, I don't want to come off as sketchy or creepy to the other passengers. Why should I care? I am one of them. I smell like bus. I smell so much like bus and while I sit there, I vow never to do this again. I will take advantage of my expense account just like Sue Ellen Crandell consequences be damned.
On the walk home, I sadly remember that I'll be doing this again in merely three days for personal reasons. If only life had an expense account!
m & l: here's to the power of love. I cannot believe you do this every week.
Ever since "Don't Tell Mom the Babysitter's Dead," I have been fascinated by petty cash and expense accounts. Fancy dinners with important clients! Meetings over cocktails! New pantsuits!
Enter into the world of non-profits. Wearing whatever I want to work (i.e. no coordinated separates) means sacrifices elsewhere. I do not go to top notch restaurants when I travel; I eat pizza in Penn Station. I do not stay in four star hotels; I sleep on my sister's couch. I do not take Amtrak; I take Greyhound.
Much of this is self-imposed. My department has a budget and I'm responsible for making sure everyone stays within these means. I could take Amtrak but I think: I'm young, I have a Discman, and I can save some money for the company. What a gal! What a fool.
My most recent journey started with a tofu hoagie (love) the new Hot Chip (like) and a pile of work (loathe). I need to keep myself with my head in a book because as a woman traveling alone, I've been offered sexual favors on the greyhound more often than not. Today, unfortunately, my tactic is not working. The man across the way is staring at me, then sleeping, then staring at me, then sleeping. Am I boring to look at? Then stop staring! His head, craned forward and sideways simultaneously, and pressed into the seat in front of him, never moves despite his drifting into and out of consciousness. I wonder if he even has the ability. I spend too much time thinking about this and start to feel bad that maybe his head is always stuck in that very position. Maybe the bus is the place he feels most comfortable because it provides him a place to rest his cockamamied head. That he lives a hard life of deformity and maybe I should smile back at him out of guilt. As he licks his lips slowly in my direction - an attempt at seduction? - I decide to eat my tofu hoagie as messily as possibly in an effort to turn him off. Turn his head. It works!
But now it's Karma who rears it's ugly head. I begin to regret the timing of my sandwich eating. I am getting sick because the man behind Not Actually Deformed Man has his shoes off, his socks off, and is peeling and flaking the skin on his feet off and onto the floor. He is perfectly well groomed from the ankle up and using Bluetooth technology to conduct business. Little do his colleagues know where his hands are! I am dry heaving (even now) - maybe too loudly, hoping he'll stop but he's too busy picking and flaking and wheeling and dealing. I earned this, perhaps. I disgusted NADM and now Toe Picker is disgusting me. How far back will this chain of events go? I fear the behavior of the passengers at the back of the bus.
We arrive one hour late and I'm surprised, given all the extra time, that Toe Picker hasn't exposed his lumbrical muscles.
The trip back is less repulsive but no better. It takes 90 minutes just to get to the New York side of the Tunnel and I'm being 'pssst'ed at nearly the entire time. The woman next to me is playing a dating game on her phone and it's depressing me beyond recognition. I can't drink the beer I snuck onto the bus because, ironically, I don't want to come off as sketchy or creepy to the other passengers. Why should I care? I am one of them. I smell like bus. I smell so much like bus and while I sit there, I vow never to do this again. I will take advantage of my expense account just like Sue Ellen Crandell consequences be damned.
On the walk home, I sadly remember that I'll be doing this again in merely three days for personal reasons. If only life had an expense account!
m & l: here's to the power of love. I cannot believe you do this every week.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
the people must have something good to read on sunday
with an unprescendented resolve, I am ready to have a productive busride. With no obnoxious screenings of "Just Like Heaven" in the coach to stop me, I pick up my copy of "Democracy and Education" and do my best to command the respect of all those around me. I am here to do work, goddammit. I am here to get things done. Then, it happens.
PFFFFFPT!
what is this??! I turn around and try to find this infantile mysterio who has the audacity to make raspberry noises! My search concludes with nary a single baby on the bus. I chalk it up to a fluke-one of those rare but not all-together unheard of occasions where the wheels on the bus sound like a human's tounge applying pressure to its lips.
I begin reading. I am anxious, reading each line with great trepidation. Nothing. Two pages go by and bam! I am awoken from my academic slumber once again this time with a chuckle! I am taken off-guard. As I slowly turn around, it becomes evident that a large schizophrenic gentleman and I are both taking a trip to our nation's capitol. He appears to be having a much grander time than I, blowing bubbles and all. When I turn around, I can now hear him muttering unintelligbly. He is seated by himself. How did I miss this? How did everyone else miss this?
I become amazed that this man is not only traveling by himself but also has the capacity to purchase a $40 dollar ticket (ANOTHER INCREASE IN PRICE!).
All of these thoughts leave me after I turn around again. He looks at me dead into the eye. Hethen proceeds to stick out his tounge and blow. I put on my portable DVD player and watch episodes of "The Wire" until the only thing I hear is the fictious jive of the streets of Baltimore.
John Dewey defines communication as a process of sharing experience till it becomes a common possession. Clearly, he never rode the bus.
PFFFFFPT!
what is this??! I turn around and try to find this infantile mysterio who has the audacity to make raspberry noises! My search concludes with nary a single baby on the bus. I chalk it up to a fluke-one of those rare but not all-together unheard of occasions where the wheels on the bus sound like a human's tounge applying pressure to its lips.
I begin reading. I am anxious, reading each line with great trepidation. Nothing. Two pages go by and bam! I am awoken from my academic slumber once again this time with a chuckle! I am taken off-guard. As I slowly turn around, it becomes evident that a large schizophrenic gentleman and I are both taking a trip to our nation's capitol. He appears to be having a much grander time than I, blowing bubbles and all. When I turn around, I can now hear him muttering unintelligbly. He is seated by himself. How did I miss this? How did everyone else miss this?
I become amazed that this man is not only traveling by himself but also has the capacity to purchase a $40 dollar ticket (ANOTHER INCREASE IN PRICE!).
All of these thoughts leave me after I turn around again. He looks at me dead into the eye. Hethen proceeds to stick out his tounge and blow. I put on my portable DVD player and watch episodes of "The Wire" until the only thing I hear is the fictious jive of the streets of Baltimore.
John Dewey defines communication as a process of sharing experience till it becomes a common possession. Clearly, he never rode the bus.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
for tonight so that i might see
I take a later bus than anticipated due to work obligations. I take my time getting to the station-always a mistake. Due to the unpredictable nature of all things Greyhound, it is best to get there early. Case in point: turns out I checked the incorrect option when scheduling my bus and was required to print out an e-ticket instead of my preferred method of ticket retrevial, will-call. I panic. This has happened once before so I know that a customer service representative can help, but it becomes a question of whether they will.
Myself: "So where can I print out this email? Do you have any suggestions in the area?"
Customer Representative: "I think there might be a hotel around here? There's probably a library somewhere too..."
M:"Do you know the actual locations of any of these places?"
CR:"No. Try Union Station."
M:"Do they have printers available, do you know?"
CR:"No. But it's big there."
These negotiations are ardeous and going nowhere. After looking around to size up any viable options, I decide to head back to the service desk for a second opinion. It should be noted that during this entire time, I am merely feet away from an empty office with a visible computer and printer.
Myself: "Hi. I just spoke to someone else a couple of minutes ago...Is there anyway you can print out my E-Ticket? I'm really sorry but I don't know where else to do this"
CR: "Have you tried Union Station?" *
M: "No, not yet. I was wondering if there was any way you could just use that printer in that empty office over there? (Points to the office with printer that is in line of sight with the both of us)
CR: "Let me see what I can do"
Ten minutes later, my ticket is indeed printed and I am on the bus. There is no moral here. My only epiphany came while watching Down by Law, realizing that it is the third Roberto Benigni film I've watched on a bus.
*it should be noted for those of you not familar with Washington DC that getting to Union Station, the believed answer to any/all travelers woes, requires getting on the Metro one stop or at least a 20 minute walk.
Myself: "So where can I print out this email? Do you have any suggestions in the area?"
Customer Representative: "I think there might be a hotel around here? There's probably a library somewhere too..."
M:"Do you know the actual locations of any of these places?"
CR:"No. Try Union Station."
M:"Do they have printers available, do you know?"
CR:"No. But it's big there."
These negotiations are ardeous and going nowhere. After looking around to size up any viable options, I decide to head back to the service desk for a second opinion. It should be noted that during this entire time, I am merely feet away from an empty office with a visible computer and printer.
Myself: "Hi. I just spoke to someone else a couple of minutes ago...Is there anyway you can print out my E-Ticket? I'm really sorry but I don't know where else to do this"
CR: "Have you tried Union Station?" *
M: "No, not yet. I was wondering if there was any way you could just use that printer in that empty office over there? (Points to the office with printer that is in line of sight with the both of us)
CR: "Let me see what I can do"
Ten minutes later, my ticket is indeed printed and I am on the bus. There is no moral here. My only epiphany came while watching Down by Law, realizing that it is the third Roberto Benigni film I've watched on a bus.
*it should be noted for those of you not familar with Washington DC that getting to Union Station, the believed answer to any/all travelers woes, requires getting on the Metro one stop or at least a 20 minute walk.
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