Started out, my bus was like 2 hours late which at 12:30 am really sucks to find out. But my bus finally shows and my adventure begins. The bus is dark as fuck and fairly crowded so I plop down next to a sleeping Mexican and mumbling to myself, begin to try and organize my shit as best possible. At this point I’m feeling dread. Like what the fuck? I have to spend nearly 3 days on this motherfucker? This is gonna be rough. But I pop a k-pin and within the hour I’m passed out. Oblivious to the cramped space, comfortably enjoying my ride. I wake up in California somewhere maybe Sacramento or possibly the stop right before. I feel alright. My celly is awake. I mention that there’s no power plug-in spot and he shows me that it’s next to him. I ask if he minds me plugging in, explaining that I have a super long cord and it can go down under his feet. He plugs me in. He seemed like a fairly decent guy, kinda quite. There’s a couple of kids sitting across the aisle. I would call them hip-hop kids. They’re cool enough. They listen to some music which didn’t entirely suck so I got the name for farther internet pirate activity later. We get to Las Angeles. Somewhere along the line the hip-hop kids disappeared. In Las Angeles I need to transfer buses, which Pizzy had mentioned earlier he had some concerns with my ability to manage, so I’m hyper attentive to the bus situation. I would have liked to sent more time there, even an hour would have been nice. Next time. So with my transfer complete I’m headed east. Scummy ass Barstow California one of them, followed shortly by Las Vegas where I get an hour and ten minute furlough. I was looking forward to Vegas. I had no idea where the Greyhound bus station is in Vegas in comparison with the strip and so there was only a glimmer of hope that I would be able to hit the strip but I figured there would be some slot machines at the bus station to be completely honest. I mean, it’s Vegas. They have slot machines at the airport. Shit they have slot machines at gas stations. So boy was I surprised when we roll up and there’s no gambling in sight. I looked around a little and as far as I can tell this area is an industrial area with Jack shit surrounding me. Then time goes by which I finally begin to notice, it starts feeling like way past time for my bus to be here. I begin to fear that I missed my ride. So I go talk to the dude at the counter and he informs me that I haven’t missed my bus, it’s just been delayed. Until 8 in the morning. Motherfucker. Well, I’m a silver liner type of guy and so I ask the nearest rent a pig how do I get to the casinos? He tells me what to do and where to go and as I’m walking off an old man motions me over and hands me a bus ticket. A bus ticket that is valid until way after I need to be back on my bus to Misery. I mean Missouri. So like a high school girl’s dress on prom night, I’m off. Currently on the bus in route to the sin City. Fuck yeah. Hope I make my bus.
Published by devilmonkey666
I'm a hot mess. A 41 year old child who still doesn't know what he wants to be when he grows up. Or even if he wants to grow up for that matter. People say I'm a writer. I'm not so sure. But it is therapeutic and helps me from going all the way left sometimes. View more posts