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.