the greyhound

the first time i rode a greyhound bus from chicago to green bay was in November of 2006. the woman who sat next to me twitched violently all the way from chicago to milwaukee. i'd secretly decided it was either turret's syndrome or withdrawals from meth or heroine or something else. she smelled like dirt and body odor. it was late enough for the sky to be very dark and all of the millions of windows in the skyscrapers stared without blinking -- unimpressed by us as our bus rode up to the highway. the women fell asleep, resting comfortably on my left shoulder various times before i shook her off.

in milwaukee, after the woman had left the bus, i got up to use the restroom inside the milwaukee station. before going in i chose the two most trustworthy looking women on the bus and told them to please watch my bag. upon returning, the bus driver came to me and crouched down next to my seat.

"are you missing anything, ma'am?"
"what?"
"the woman you were sitting next to was caught stealing inside the bus station. check your bags and make sure you have everything."

so i checked my things. everything valuable had been in my purse, which i took inside with me. i imagined the girl searching through my carry on and cursing as she found nothing but books, makeup and empty cheetos wrappers.

i had gone home that weekend after recovering from a scabies episode. it makes me shiver just thinking about it again. it was the reason i couldn't go meet this new guy, will, at his birthday party and instead had to go home. the little creatures may have been gone, but they'd left a lasting impression and i needed to feel well again.

of course, i met will, and thanks to him and his nissan i never had to ride the greyhound again. until friday.

my parents picked me up in green bay. my dad was there when i got off the us.

"how was the ride?"
[pause - waiting to be out of earshot of anyone who was on the bus.]
"well, from the time i stepped into the chicago bus station until just now, i've smelled the smell of farts."

the smell is most notable. no one who rides greyhounds showers. it's a thick smell, and it's a combination of farts and sweat and who knows what else. also, no one who rides greyhounds stays awake, and when they fall asleep, everyone who rides a greyhound is trained to fall asleep on your shoulder. being one of the only bathed, clean-clothed, sane-looking greyhound passengers, i'm the first one everyone wants to sit by. with two-seat groupings on each side of the aisle, it's to your advantage to be as disgusting looking as possible when you sit down so that when the second half of the passengers file on no one chooses to sit with you. maybe it's purposeful, and they're all smarter than i am. maybe next time i won't bathe and i'll wear something stereotypically gang-member or terrorist. then, maybe i'll get a seat to myself. maybe i'll just hold a sharp object or suck a mysterious substance through a straw from a piece of a tin foil. maybe i'll just put the biggest, scariest grin on my face and stare at everyone as they walk by. because clearly, the headphones/face-in-a-book strategy does not work.

the ride from chicago to green bay is supposed to be five hours, but it always becomes six. six excruciating hours of disgusting greyhound bus ride.