Haunted By The Hound...

This past weekend I drove over to Gonzaga with a good friend. I thought he needed company on the road trip. My plan was to fly home early the next morning on Horizon Airlines (as I usually do). But I waited until the last second and the price shot up dramatically. So I was left without a car or airplane to get back. The next option: Greyhound. Let’s just say my six hour bus ride between Spokane and Seattle will be my last. The first part was not so bad. I arrived at the bus station in Spokane about an hour in advance. The employees and customers seemed normal enough (key word is seemed). It even looked as if the bus would be half empty so I would get my own seat (key word is looked).

However, right before boarding a rush of last-minute folks gathered in line. I knew this would be a full ride. As anyone does, I picked out the people I hoped I didn’t have to sit next to. Of course, I ended up sitting next to them ALL once we boarded. Across the row from me: a woman in her late 20’s who had been released from prison a few hours earlier. Her crime? Theft and drug trafficking. She spent the entire trip screaming about how much she wanted a baggy of crack or just a small supply of weed. Every other word was four letters and most of them began with an F and ended with K. Directly behind her was a man from Montana without teeth who complained how much he hated his parole officer. By this time the bus smelled not only of cigarettes and body odor, but also of well, human feces. Note to self: do not sit ANYWHERE near the bathroom. Anyway, our trip continued across Eastern Washington. I’m pretty sure I was the only person without a seat mate. I tried to avoid the chaos by taking a nap. I fell asleep but woke up a few minutes later to a lady with no teeth shaking my seat. She screamed “sweetie, sweetie, wake up. I need to sit next to you.” I quickly obliged and moved my backpack. The remainder of the road trip consisted of her coughing on me and then falling asleep and snoring louder than my dad (which is saying something). I was offered drugs, asked for drugs, asked for money. Some people brought i-Pods with speakers and listened to their music out loud. One man in particular had a liking for heavy metal music. It’s too bad no one else on the bus shared in his joy. I could go on and on and continue to write about the trip. But basically it continued much of the same. People talked about prison, theft, a lack of jobs. It was an interesting trip and the SECOND I got to the bus station in Seattle I darted to the front and got the heck out of there. While I wouldn’t necessarily recommend taking a Greyhound trip, I would say it made for an interesting experience. Perhaps Eric Slocum should venture from Metro Transit to Greyhound for a day or two. I’m just glad I made it alive.