driving up already late to a packed street corner in DCs chinatown is not a way to start a 3 hour trip back to philly. 2 busloads of tired impatient brazilian and south philly locals milled around and tried to figure out if they should throw out their general tso's chickn or if the baby seat will fit above in the overhead bin. as i'm jumping out of the car i'm forgetting important things and trying not to choke myself on my bag. the bus is pulling up. i have to go.
i'm in luck. there are large groups. that means if all don't get on, none get on. a brazilian man in front of me is carrying his son and seat in the same arm about to tip over backwards while people are pushing at him. finally his friend in a rams jersey from the 80s grabs the seat and pulls it past heads into the bus and the man gets on with me in tail. second to last seat. that's the one with my name. next to a tired looking grandmother who looks like she's ready for the trip to be over before it's even started.
smells like onions.
not her, but the bus. i have to retreat into my ipod or i might have a panic attack from all the jostling and body checks on the way in. as the bus finally pulls away there's still a crowd trying to figure out what the hell they are supposed to do on a dark street corner in DCs chinatown at 8pm the day after christmas. the faces are sour blurs of frustration as we move away and turn onto new york avenue.
an uneventful hour later after streetlights and chicken joints have been left inside city limits and behind us we get the first travel plaza. gas? so soon? the driver stops the bus away from the gas pumps, grabs 2 plastic bags, puts on his beatnick looking coat and jumps out closing the door behind him. for a half second people were quiet. questions are louder than patience. people started getting up and trying to figure out the door.
just as they, "there we go", got the door open the driver hurried in the door dropping the plastic bags behind him.
insigh indsigh!
pushing the people back up the stairs he tossed his coat and put the bus in gear.
another hour of wondering what that was all about later we hit another travel plaza. same thing part 2. on with the coat out with the plastic bags. chunk chunk from the back of the bus. people are starting to murmur to one another. when strangers talk to strangers on a dark bus off I-95 then you know something's wrong. 5 minutes of fiddling and the driver's back. bus it moving again. slowly but surely for another 30 minutes with 10 of that in the wrong direction.
finally after too much sign gazing, philly. the airport, the stadiums. the frenzy of iron that is the philadelphia port authority.
then there was quiet.
the bus started to slow down. people started looking at one another. i couldn't resist the chance to let out a "wa wa". just above the target on columbus the bus came to a stop. cold. quiet. dark. it was an aluminum cage of confusion. "status report" someone yelled. the driver murmered something while talking to someone on his blinking bluetooth earpiece. "what the fuck did he say?" "transmission broke!" the grandmother, who'd been sitting patiently mumbled "you got to be kiddin' me"
some people got out and milled on the side of the overpass looking to see if there was a way to climb down saying they could see thier house from there. most others sat and chuckled and plotted how they were going to get their money back. then a bus pulled up.
full.
it pulled off as quick as it came up. 10 minutes later after a lot of thinking that i was going to just get off and call a cab to mile marker whatever another bus, empty, pulled up to take us the last 5 minutes to arch street. finally it was over. after a quick walk to the office to get my bike i rode home past the drinkers and taxis and late night bike racers. back to warmth and cats and music from speakers.
that's what you get for 15 bones.
