Bus of misfits.
I’m currently en route to Connecticut via bus to attend my sisters baby shower. We boarded extremely late so it’s likely I might miss half the celebration. Do me a solid, Lis, get the presents and games out-of-the-way. Games and opening of presents = worst idea ever. Seriously.
Riding the bus is an awkward experience. I arrived an hour early (like my ticket told me to do) and was the first in line by about 20 minutes. Soon an older gentleman joined me and felt the need to talk my ear off until the bus arrived. I made it clear that there would be no talking once we were seated. I talk and listen ALL. DAY. LONG at work so I was in no mood for banter. As if endless chatter about corrupt cops (my contribution), foldable bikes (his), and high rent (ours) wasn’t bad enough, said man was also a spitter. I’m pretty sure my top is damp.
The route to New Haven, CT stops at two different casinos. If you’ve ever been to a casino, you can imagine the crowd I’m rolling with. Get an old lady smoking butts with an oxygen tank on here and life would be complete. Even my friend, the spitter, could recognize the diversity. He suggested I be the bus therapist. Not a chance in hell pal.
Now I’m sitting next to a woman who is either humming or coughing. Suddenly Pin the Tail on the Pregnant Lady doesn’t sound so bad.
I’m coming for you Sis!