It was a hot and steamy August evening
as we got on the Trailways bus. Greyhound bus drivers had been on strike for
the past 5 months, so most people were using Trailways for cross country trips.
As we entered the crowded bus, I could smell the musk, sweat, and unwashed scent
of the other passengers. The fabric lined seats were worn from use. People’s
carry on luggage were pushed under seats or on peoples’ laps. The bus was full
to the brim with people with little room for anyone to breath. If it were 2020,
we would say there was nowhere to socially distance from anyone else.
As I took in the scene, my thoughts
were interrupted by a man’s voice.
“Here, take your luggage,” demanded
the bus driver. “There is no room underneath.”
I quickly grabbed my luggage to join
the several other pieces in the aisle of the bus.
As I tried to find a seat for the
hour-long journey south, I noticed that every seat was filled except for two
right by the gross smelly bathroom in the back of the bus. No one offered to
get up and allow anyone in my family a seat.
“You need to sit down,” declared
the bus driver.
Quickly we decided who was going
to sit where on the bus because there was not enough seats and we could not
wait for the next bus.
Mom and Tanya ended up in the two
seats in the back of the bus. Guess where I was going to be sitting? On top of
a suitcase, straddling it for dear life while we drove down I-75 down towards
Cincinnati.
If anyone knows this corridor of
I-75, they realize that it is not the best decision to be sitting in the middle
of an aisle on a bus. It is notorious for accidents and people driving while
not paying attention.
So not only was I, a tiny human being
at that point in my life, straddling the suitcase, it was also nighttime so I
could barely see a thing in that bus. I could hear people farting, moving
around, and breathing. An occasional reading light was a glow. All the while, I
was holding onto the suitcase for dear life.
Once that hour-long bumpy and
frightening journey was complete, we were got off that death trap because it
was time for the real journey to begin. In her haste to change the plans, she
decided we were going to take a train from Cincinnati to Virginia. We were
going to get off the train and visit with said friend and then get back on the
train in either Washington, D.C., or Richmond. Then it was going to be riding
on that train the rest of the way down to Florida.
Thirty years later, I’m thankful
for the chance to take a train down to Florida for my first visit to Walt
Disney World. Even though I was more worried about being bored, exploring the
train, and trying to find boys, it allowed me to experience a slower paced way
of travel. I just wished I didn’t have to ride in the middle of an aisle on the
way down to Cincinnati beforehand. I learned people don’t always show common
sense manners because I should have been offered a seat by one of the other
passengers.
Oh, and that marriage to his Russian
friend Well, within a year of marriage, it had crashed and burned.
