Wednesday, March 26, 2008

Go Greyhound (and leave the disinfecting to Lysol)

After returning from a week in FL on Wednesday, I was off again on Friday -- this time to RI for Easter weekend. So, it was so nice to wake up in my own bed this morning (okay, afternoon) feeling refreshed and thoroughly disinfected after a scorching hot shower of Lysol last night. That's what happens when you "go Greyhound," I guess.

Yes, even though the past month has included luxurious stays in 5-star hotels such as the St. Regis in New York, the Taj in Boston and the Fairmont Turnberry Isle in Miami, I decided to take the bus to Providence. David McCullough's "1776" is partly to blame (seriously, I can't put the book down) as is Amtrak, that crap excuse for transportation. Where they get off charging $190 to ride trains that sit on the tracks for hours waiting to make a left turn is beyond me.

So, for $50 R/T, I headed to the Port Authority on 42nd Street to catch my 6:15 PM bus. For what it's worth, I wasn't *really* slumming it -- there is one level below Greyhound in NYC: the Fung Wah bus out of Chinatown to Providence for $25 R/T. They only recently banned chickens as carry-on baggage and I've heard horror stories about passengers being routed to Hartford and made to dine at unkempt Chinese restaurants affiliated with the busline (i.e. Chinese mafia). In light of this, Greyhound seemed like a safe bet.

But the sights and smells of Port Authority quickly had me re-thinking my choice to leave the driving to them. I mean, it's not often that I give change to a homeless guy while waiting to board a plane or train.

Immersed in a thick fog of bus exhaust and Budweiser breath inside the terminal, I began to hallucinate that a posse of flying rats was trapped in the long, narrow terminals and kept dive-bombing the line I was standing in. No, those were real pigeons. Then, I hallucinated an argument between a 20-ish black guy and a shrunken old white guy who were standing in line for Atlantic City. No, that was real, too:

"What? Don't tell me where to stand! I'll stand where I want to! Who the hell are you? You can't make me move!"

(mumbled response from black guy)

"I don't pay taxes anymore 'cause I'm 84 years old! I go to church every day and the good Lord takes care of me. Yes he does. The good Lord takes care of me!"

(mumbled response from black guy and curious looks from other passengers)

"That's right! I'm 84 years old and I drink a quart of milk every day. A QUART of milk! Want to see me punch a hole in this wall? C'mon, dare me! I'll punch a hole right through this wall!"

(mumbled response from black guy and nervous looks from other passengers that they were about to see an 84-yr-old with a broken arm)

"What, are you guys chicken?! I tell ya, I drink a QUART of milk every day! Dare me to punch a hole in this wall. Here, watch me do it!"

(84-yr-old moves 2 steps over to where the brick wall has a plastic-framed advertisement and softly punches it)

Soon after the excitement of standing in line a la Port Authority, I was finally on board my Greyhound when a horrible thought occurred to me: I can't pee for the next 4 hours. I mean, I could pee, but it would be in a rocking port-a-potty (and if the terminal's bathrooms were any indication, I'd be better off suffering kidney failure on the way to Providence). Suddenly, the urge to pee was all I could think about despite relieving myself only 20 minutes earlier.

Other thoughts came to mind, too:

The Port Authority should not allow beer to be sold or consumed prior to boarding a bus. Period. Otherwise, nose plugs and breath mints should be handed out like candy.

Not everyone on Greyhound is a beer-guzzling ex-con. In fact, some are beer-guzzling college students. I sat next to a girl from NYU with a large Chanel bag and nose ring who used her $2,000 laptop to play video games the entire way.

How is it that bus drivers don't hit the same traffic I do EVERY GODDAMN TIME I ATTEMPT THE SAME DRIVE UP 95? It was 6 o'clock on a Friday night before a holiday weekend and that guy didn't hit the brakes once. WTF?

Conversation is a lost art that only Greyhound passengers still practice. Behind me was a Dominicana from the Bronx and a Liberian guy from Pawtucket. Despite being complete strangers, they managed to chat like old friends the entire 4 hours (mostly about his desire to learn Spanish and the merits of chicharone).

Is it weird to be offended when your seatmate gets up the SECOND an empty row becomes available? Did I smell, too? Had the pent-up urine saturated my skin by the time we got to New London?

I survived the trip, had a nice time with the fam in RI for Easter and managed to put a huge dent in "1776" along the way. In fact, finishing that book is the reason it's taken me nearly two days to blog about my little social experiment. No, seriously, you've GOT to read this's well worth the kidney and can of Lysol it cost me.

(some cheap bitch happily disembarking from a Greyhound bus in Providence)


Nicole said...

Hey there, thanks for commenting. I love it when people actually read the article and DON'T have anything bad to say, thanks.

Anonymous said...

Ours is an envionment where evil is perceived to be rewarded while good is punished. As with everything the Gods have a reason for creating this perception::::
People who fall on the good side of the good/evil scale have more favor, and when they do something wrong the Gods punish them BECAUSE THEY WANT THEM TO LEARN. The Gods want them to receive this feedback in hope they make corrections and begin to behave appropriately. The Gods DON'T like evil and refuse to grant this feedback.
EVERYBODY pays for what they do wrong, only evil people must wait until their next life before they will experience the wrath of the Gods, manifested in their reincarnation as a lower form of life into environments with increased/enhanced temptations.
Sadly, this allows the Gods to position this perception of evil rewarded as temptation, one which they use as an EXTREMELY effective corruptor.

Militancy in Africa is consistant with the Iraqi example, as was slavery and the KKK here in America:::Fear enforces proper behavior. Without it we see what happens as a result of gross/morbid disfavor:::::AIDS, crack babies, dead young men in gangland retaliation killings. This is the purpose behind many black's historical tendancy towards resistance.
The same principle was true in Europe and throughout the world for centuries:::People whom lived under iron fists were conditioned to think the right way. As a result they experienced higher numbers of children accend into heaven because they were taught to think and behave appropriately. Our preditory envionment of "freedom" was the primary purpose the Gods had when implimenting this strategy that is the United States, one which they used to spred the cancer of democracy and westernization throughout the world. And the Gods use this tool that is America to prey on the disfavored both at home and abroad.

Even the Old Testiment is not to be taken literally, but the Gods do offer clues throughout to help the disfavored:::The apple is a tool of temptation used to corrupt Adam and Eve and cast them out of the Garden of Eden.
There is another lesson to be learned from this passage, and it is quite similar to the vailing issue and the discourse over women's attire which ultimately died in the 70s:::Women are responsible for and control the fate of mankind.

Think about what I say. Consider what I teach. Society is going to become disturbingly ugly as we approach the Apocalypse due to spiralling, runaway disfavor.
I do not know when this will occurr, but it is the God's way to grant some time before they end on Planet Earth.
Make the decision to always be good and never look back. Until you do this technology will employ tactics to test your resolve:::Ridicule, beligerance, doubt and refusal to abandon what people perceive to be their "investment".
Pray daily. Think appropriately. Too many are confident, unaware of the God's awesome powers or their status as antients. Others may fall prey to their positioning.
Be humbled, God-fearing and beware of the God's temptations, for everyone is tested to evaluate their worthiness.

I'm going to lose immortality in my dungeons, torturing the 50 who played a part in doing this to me.
And of course I will want clones of the Gods as well.
I want them to be brain-less, and yes, a fully functioning body without a brain IS possible with their technology. Unfortunately, the Gods have a disturbing dark side, and instead of granting me their brain-less clones they will instead put in my beloved daughter and enjoy the irony while I mercilessly torture her to death.

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