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.