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.
Sunday, May 25, 2008
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
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