Archive for the ‘Travel’ Category

Previously: Next stop …off.

And now: Just my luck. This bus was filled with Amway acolytes, missionaries of some obscure Zorastrian sect, and worst of all a group of life insurance salespeople heading to a convention in Des Moines. So this was hell…on wheels no less! Remind me why I left Ahmed’s and its insanity. Oh, yeah, right, that stuff.

I could stay on the bus until my final destination, 2 and a half days away with this ship of fools or I could get off some five hours from now. It would be a test regardless of length of my intestinal fortitude and ability to keep mindlessly singing an Abba song. On second thought, that might just endear me to this substrata of American society. But then again, there hasn’t been much in my history to endear me to many with the exception of the increasingly dysfunctional crew back at Ahmed’s.

3975923366_b52635d39f           Oh, yeah. Good times.

I’ve decided to stay on the bus until I could endure it no longer. Wisely, I packed the latest book, number six I think and 2,300 pages long, of the Shame of Bones trilogy. I think the author decided to milk his original premise bone dry – hence the title and the number of volumes in this inaccurately described “trilogy.” With my iPad and this book, I should be able to tune out the world, or rather this damnable bus, until I reach my destination. I hope.

Settling in to my “luxo-comfort-travel-pedic” seat as the bus company portrays it, I turn up my music to the Tony award-winning score of Kinky Boots, just then realizing the influence Kippy has had on me. Great! Just great! Before long I’ll probably be humming the score to Sling Blade – The Musical. I’m on a bus filled with people more marginalized than me, humming a yet non-existent show tune. I’m so screwed. But then it got worse.

We pull into the bus station in some town with no other reason for being other than the bus needs to refuel there and feed its occupants with the latest offerings from Little Debbie. New passengers get on; I look up and oh, crap!, there she (he) is: my brother – Ped, so named for the size of his feet which I will not go into at this point. But he’s not known as Ped any longer. No, not since his operation, yes, that operation, she goes by a new name, Ginger Vitus. Yeah. He’s a tranny, but he’s my tranny even if I don’t want to see him, er, her.

6545400661_ba2c27e4f5  Sister Ginger.

I do have to hand it to her – she pulls it off well. She looks good. Not good to me, but for what she’s done. Tasteful but with just a soupcon of garish. She always did have style. And it looks like she’s been shopping at the theatre gift store since she is now the very embodiment of Kinky Boots. I try to avoid her (his) gaze but she sees me first and walks down the aisle to park her butt in the seat next to me. Didn’t I leave Ahmed’s to escape this stuff?

“Fog! It’s so good to see you!” I try to act like Stevie Wonder but she doesn’t buy it.

Previously: Why do I bother listening? Why do I hang around this place? Why? Why?

And Now: That was a damn good question. I had to get out of there and now. I didn’t care if Ahmad had the best falafel, everything else was about to do me in. So I booked.

But where would I go? Church? Not hardly. Not since Sister Mary Angela Bucco caught me screwing around with one of the Goldberg-O’Brien twins behind the sacramental wine rack. (That’s where the priest kept the good stuff.)  Which sister I can’t remember, they DID look alike after all. And what you’re probably asking is up with the Goldberg-O’Brien name? Yeah, Irish and Jewish. Go figure. Lust knows no boundaries and neither did their parents. Being a good Catholic and a good Jew, they had the best of both worlds: six kids by three sets of twins. Why buy retail, right? So church was out.

2701993985_e3e5065a57                                    And this is why.

So was home. I ran away four times and this time it looked like it was finally going to stick. Where to go?

I’d been to all the halfway houses, quarterway houses, and a few of the all-the-way houses. Suffice to say, I have an interesting history. I’m pretty clean now that Hostess is out of business. I was up to a five pack a day habit on Twinkies. You know when you’re doing the good stuff, Ding Dongs and Ring Dings, scoring Little Debbie stuff just doesn’t cut it. Thankfully, it never got that far out of control. Hey, I can stop anytime I want. All you have to do to realize that is look at my weight. It’s a strapping 165 lbs. of rippling flab on a 6’3” frame. Good metabolism I guess. Sorry, that went off a little bit. Just a little TMI for you guys, but understand I’m going crazy here.

I would normally have gotten into my car and headed out to parts anywhere. But due to the damage done during the PETA dust-up, that car wasn’t going anywhere. Hitchhiking was out of the question. The last time I did that, I almost wound up getting married to a Paula Deen impersonator. No, I won’t be thumbing it for a long time.

So that leaves the rails or the bus. The bus affords more opportunity to get off anywhere and quickly and I opt for that. It’s time to leave the driving to them. Them being a sordid bunch of rum-soaked, caffeine-addicted, chain-smoking, former long-haul truckers who maintain a modicum of civility. A very small modicum.

134402237_f62c730185                  My life is in their hands!

Buses are the one of the last bastions of true democracy. Sit anywhere but be careful where. It’s the United friggin’ Nations on wheels. And there is a hierarchy to the seating “plan.” It’s not really official, but it resembles your old classroom seating. The law-abiding, butt-kissers sit up front looking to curry favor with the “teacher”. It also allows them the opportunity to get off fast. Something to always keep in mind on a bus trip. If this is the way you roll, better get on first, because of those sentenced to this mode of travel, it’s as welcome as a fart in church. As you move down the aisle, the bus gets a little and then a lot messier until you reach the back of the bus where all the kids who sat in the back of the classroom now reside. Certainly more interesting and definitely more pungent. Always decisions to make.

These are the people I normally associate but in the interest of rapid escape, I choose the front of the bus. What a mistake!

64785450_35f9c29e36

Next stop…off!