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It’s Still A Little Gay To Grab Your Booty Cheek

January 9, 2011

As I write this, I hope I’m not missing my last bus to Evansville.

So apparently I didn’t have any friends willing to let me pay them to drive with them back to school. So naturally, I have taken to the great American transit system: the Greyhound.

Back on the first sentence, I have learned really interesting things about the bus system. Like how they don’t monitor how many tickets they sell, so if you buy a ticket, you still might have to wait for the next bus. And also how each station might not be a real station, like now. I’m in a McDonald’s lobby. Where the bus will come, I have no idea. But my last driver insisted this is where I should wait. I still have about forty minutes til I should really worry, and so to pass the time I’m writing this. Before, during the last 25 hours of travel, I alternated reading books/plays and sleeping. But the busses are like planes in regards to sleeping. I didn’t so much sleep as I forced myself to pass out in an uncomfortable position reminiscent of Christopher Reeve in his chair.


I suppose that wasn’t as funny to you as I imagined, but the imagery works just the same. The busses were most always packed, spare the first, and I feel that I have made it this far in this much time by sheer luck and divine will of the gods. Oh, and $5 at every station for priority boarding. I sorta have an issue with that though. We all bought tickets, but only about half of us made it out of Dallas on time. Real shady, Greyhound, Inc.

Next time, I'm taking the train

Anyways, my trek started in Temple, TX, where I played with my sisters at Whistle Stop while waiting for the bus. Then it came, I got on, and we set out for the far hills of… Waco. In hindsight, I probably should have just bought a ticket for a bus leaving out of Waco or Dallas and drove myself up instead of bussing it all the way, because it would have been both cheaper and quicker, but life’s about learning and getting doped out of your money, so since this was my first bout I’ll let it slide. There was nothing remarkable about the first drive that I remember, but once I got to Waco this crazy man asked me to use my phone. I told him kindly I didn’t have one (so I lied, sue me, I’m a scared little whiteboy away from home), to which he asked what the bulge in my pocket was. I knew he wasn’t trying to compliment me, but thankfully that was the pocket with my iPod in it, which I pulled out and showed him, and he left. I was slightly confused about why, out of everyone, I was asked, but I was just thankful that I had been left alone.

The station in Waco, but brighter and more safe looking

The drive to Dallas was the first full bus, and I was the last one from the bus from Temple allowed on. But I payed for my insistence that I made it on the bus. It was packed, a little hot, and sorta smelly. I sat next to this man who didn’t speak way in the back of the bus and continued reading. At one point I fell asleep, and as soon as I woke up and saw the darkness outside I was filled with dread because I thought that I had slept through Dallas. I quickly and politely asked the man next to me if we had passed Dallas. He sorta stared at me, confused, and said something along the lines of, “Yes, Dallas”. So, not knowing what to do with that information, I looked out the windows at roadsigns. We hadn’t passed Dallas, but we were approaching.

Dallas station exterior. The inside was nothing to look at

The Dallas station was super packed when I got there. I expected a place along the lines of Grand Central Station, but instead it was like the lobby of a small town Hilton Hotel. So I meandered around people of all sorts to make it to the little 24 hour food station. My layover here was four and a half hours, so I encountered many characters.

The first was the speaker of the quote of the post title. I have no idea in what context or to whom he was speaking, but as he left the bathroom with a friend I presume, he spoke those words of wisdom. Expecting more, I turned around, and there was no one there anymore, so I assume he go went to spread the good Word about grabbing your booty cheeks. Now usually, I am vociferously and militantly against the use of the word ‘gay’ in a derogatory sense, but even I had to admit it was a little gay to grab your booty cheek.

The second was this nice girl that I think was within five years of my age. At this point, I was reading Lanford Wilson’s The Hot l Baltimore at my own little table. She approached me, and asked if she could take my picture. Thinking it was some admirer of my works, I enthusiastically said yes, take as many as you want. Celebrity is as celebrity does, remember that. However, after she had finished with the impromptu photo shoot, she told me that she was sending them to her friend because I looked ‘just like Robert Pattinson. She’ll freak!’. Later, name of my own. Fame is a fickle friend…

The last character of note was the Mexican woman who served me my hot wings. I got a drink with my meal combo, so I went over to the drink machine. As usual, none of the sodas really interested me, so I opted to fill up with water. Somehow the woman saw and knew that I hadn’t got a soda, so she proceeded to call my attention and tell me that I get a soda with the combo. I replied and asked if water was ok, but she just kept insisting that I get a soda. I went back and got a coke, and the woman was satisfied and left me alone.

Oh, I forgot, but right before I left I bought some snacks. The man in front of me was only buying a Snickers bar, and maybe he was doing this to get change, but he paid with a $100 bill. I didn’t realize places accepted anything higher than a $20 these days.

So then I made it on the bus towards Mt. Vernon, IL.

The Memphis Station. Well, maybe not, but it was close to this

I was nervous about sleeping on the bus for fear of missing my station, since I had to transfer busses at 8 am in Memphis. But again, any attempt at sleeping was at half-mast anyways, so I had nothing to fear. Getting to Memphis was pretty unextraordinary, but afterwards I ran into trouble. From Memphis to Mt. Vernon, I sat next to this kid whose dad was passed out across the aisle. We pulled in for a rest stop and he ran out with his little brother while I was decided whether I should get off for a little bit. I decided since I hadn’t really walked a great deal since this whole trip began, I probably should. While walking, I decided I could use a drink, so I went back to the bus to retrieve my wallet. I went in, got a water bottle, and headed to the bus. But by the time I got back, terror had struck. I looked down at the boy (who in all honesty was slightly rotund) as he extended his arms and spoke very quickly in Spanish. Then, I looked into his shaky, guilty palms, and saw my chocolate frog box: destroyed. From what I gathered, I left it on the seat when I got my wallet out, and he came back and sat on it before it could be saved. Thankfully, my famous wizard card (Godric Gryffindor) was saved, albeit frustrated and disgruntled.

So now I’m here at this McDonalds. I should be memorizing my monologues, but I got like 36 hours before I perform them. I’ll be fine.

Stay Tuned!



I was met by my friend on the bus to Evansville from Mt. Vernon. Turns out he flew into St. Louis and had been bussing from there. Not as long a trek as mine, but we still had the same sort of trip!

5 Comments leave one →
  1. January 9, 2011 10:56 pm

    Cool road trip story. didja get there yet?

    • January 9, 2011 11:00 pm

      Yep! I made it safe and sound. Course, I thought the guy next to me on the last leg of the trip was going to get me because for a while he just stared at my hat while I read

  2. Alex permalink
    January 10, 2011 12:48 am

    Bahahaha “Life’s about learning and getting doped out of your money”. Nothing scarier or better for people watching than an Greyhound Station at 4 in the morning.

  3. Lily permalink
    January 10, 2011 1:33 am

    I *told* you that that Asian preteen was taking pictures of you when we went ice-skating. See, it’s a widespread phenomenon 😉

  4. Calli permalink
    March 7, 2011 3:38 am

    This is great. I’m jealous of your eventful life.

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