Before continuing with Day 2's adventures, a quick shout out to my mother. Apparently she was quite perturbed by the google research I did on the criminal happenings that have taken place on Greyhound. Mum, if you're still reading, don't worry about when I get to the bit about the knife. It all ends well.
3.15pm – I swear to god, I never knew there was so much to know about becoming a truck driver. In the last half hour, I’ve learned (by eavesdropping, not engaging – never break rule 101 of bus travel) about the pros and cons of working for several different truck driving companies, the pay structure (which I kid you not, sounds very much like a pyramid scheme) to the sleeping arrangements at orientation (I wasn’t joking, the truck drivers are going to orientation).
3.30pm – it’s just my luck to get stuck with the Generation Y of truck drivers. Every 2nd word is dude and there’s plans to wrap the youngest (22 in case you’re wondering) one in the bus bathroom. I’m not entirely sure where the plastic is coming from and I momentarily consider asking.
4.00pm - One of the truck drivers, who describes himself as Fat Boy (and so shall he be known) is trying overly hard to fit in - and yes he's the 22 year old. When one of the other truck drivers entertains everyone with stories about how he's 'been bit' by a rattlesnake no less than 3 times, Fat Boy offers that perhaps he should start wearing bright colors because rattlers are afraid of bright colors. I'm not sure this is entirely true and I'm also sure this won't bring him any closer to being the cool kid on the bus.
4.30pm - It was only a matter of time before Fat Boy decided to talk to me. He doesn't bat an eyelid when I say I'm from Vermont but it becomes clear quite quickly that I won't be assisting his endeavors to become the cool kid on the bus any time soon. He turns his focus to the girl who had to pay $40 for her excess baggage (Greyhound 1: Girl 0).
4.45pm - Struggling with in his ineptitude at improving his position in the truck driving popularity stakes, Fat Boy inexplicably decides to show everyone the knife he’s carrying. I start to fret that I may be about to make local news headlines but instead of carnage on the bus, Fat Boy wants to show everyone what $15 can buy you and explains the importance of staying protected on the road while driving trucks. I should point out that weapons are banned on Greyhound buses but our driver seems oblivious to the knife brandishing episode.
5.30pm – One hour till we’re in Pittsburgh and I come up from air after gleaning 42 minutes of Top Chef Masters from my powerless computer to discover the truck drivers are still talking about work and the millions they’re going to make.
Interestingly that leads to a new discussion on the various hardships they’ve all endured including Fat Boy whose sister lost 75% of her brain function following a car accident. It reminds me of those hard luck stories that dominate during American Idol auditions where the wannabes talk about how winning will change their lives. I suddenly feel very guilty about not talking to Fat Boy and silently hope that the truck driving company they work for isn’t a pyramid scheme.
6.35pm – We roll into Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania (can’t believe we’re still in Pennsylvania). All along I’ve been thinking Pittsburgh might be a bit of a hole, for no valid reason, except possibly that the first four letters are Pitts, which doesn’t lend itself to creating a pretty picture. As we approach the city, my suspicions appear to have merit with houses upon houses stacked awkwardly on top of the slopes leading to the river banks. But as we wind our way downtown, the Pitt redeems itself with an array of modern and ornate buildings. Unfortunately I can’t say the same for the Pitt’s Greyhound Transit Center, although it does have power outlets, but once again, no wifi.
7.10pm - I am a serious slave to connectivity. I choose to spend our half hour rest stop leaning against a public telephone where I’ve found a power outlet to recharge my ipod and computer. That fried chicken sure smells good but it’s a poor substitute for music that can block out another hour of truck driver banter.
I do however have time to grab some water which leads me to one of my favourite things about travel – discovering new things – this time it’s a brand of water called Fred. And the bottle is rectangular and narrow; kind of like a flask. Listen, before you make some comment, you spend a couple of days on a bus and see what small things amuse you.
7.30pm – Go to reboard the bus and discover they’ve decided to switch buses. Still no power or wifi but no handwritten no smoking sign. I lose the truck drivers in Pittsburgh but instead am befriended by two young guys - one from Wichita and one originally from Alaska, now relocating to somewhere I have never heard of.
I wish I could have recorded the conversation. Topics include the death penalty, hunting, drinking and candy – I’m in the minority every time, particularly when it comes to the appropriateness of shooting a bear.
It is the most fun I've had on the bus so far and the first firefighter and former US postal worker (turned truck driver believe it or not) I've met since I moved to the US and it's all thanks to Greyhound.
11.28pm – Wake up in Columbus, Ohio after a couple hours of neck breaking sleep. I want to stay on the bus and keep sleeping but it’s an opportunity to stretch, check for wifi (still none) and most importantly recharge! Plus this may be the one and only time I find myself in the state of Ohio.
And that’s how Day 2 ends – somewhere in Ohio – it’s another one of frustration at not being able to have a constant power source or to be able to connect with family and friends – isn’t it funny how you go on vacation to take a break from life, but you inevitably find yourself wanting to have a piece of it, or as Noel Coward calls them 'the right people' with you wherever you go?
No comments:
Post a Comment