Every year, around this time, I'm making plans to travel home for the holidays. Baltimore's not that far from New York, and I always have to decide whether I take the train, or the fucking shitty bus company du jour.
My thought process goes something like this.
Train- Ontime
- Fast
- Big, cushy seats
- Dining car
Or,
Fucking Shitty Bus CompanyWell, the bus costs $15.
There's a Lewis Black bit about candy corn, about how he hates it, but every year, like an Alzheimer's patient, he sees candy corn and tosses a handful in his mouth, only to remember that it's gross.
That's pretty much me and the fucking shitty bus company. Every year, I say, gee, the fucking shitty bus only costs $15...I suppose all the hassle is worth it, since it's so cheap. And every year, like and Alzheimer's patient, I book that $15 ticket on the fucking shitty bus, and on every trip, I rue the day I clicked that fucking shitty "Buy Now" button on the fucking shitty website for the fucking shitty bus.
I've been through a lot of fucking shitty bus companies over the years. In fact, I don't think I've ever traveled on one fucking shitty bus company more than once, because they're all so fucking shitty. This year I was hoodwinked by the shiny new fucking shitty Megabus. Megabus buses are blue, doubledecker deals that seem okay from the outside. And to ride them to Baltimore only costs $15.
Here's my morning. Bus, scheduled to leave at 10:25am, does not arrive at random-ass parking lot designated as pick-up area. In the meantime, me and increasingly angry fucking shitty bus company clientele are standing in the freezing cold rain, shivering and wet.
In succession, people in the line start calling the fucking shitty Megabus to find out where in God's holy name the fucking shitty bus is. Each time, they are told it's 10 minutes away. This is a boldfaced lie, so I call them myself.
FSBC: Are you calling to book a ticket on our fucking shitty bus?
AG: No. I'm calling the find out where the 10:25 bus from Baltimore to New York is.
FBBC: Let me transfer you.
Minutes pass, my hands freeze over.
FSBC: How can I help you?
AG: I'm calling to find out the status of the 10:25 bus from Baltimore to New York.
FSBC: That bus is 10 minutes away.
AG: Do you know where the bus is, exactly?
FSBC: No.
AG: Then how do you know it's 10 minutes away?
FSBC: I'm sorry?
AG: Ten minutes seems to be your default response. I don't believe you.
FSBC: What's that?
AG: Nothing. 10 minutes. Thank you, fucking shitty bus company.
The bus finally arrives, an hour late, and it's come from Washington, DC, so it's already almost full. It is clear from the outside that not everyone on this cold, wet line is getting on this bus.
If Adam Gwon does not get on this bus, there will be hell to pay, so I forgo stowing my duffle bag beneath the bus (the luggage compartments are full, anyway) and jump ahead in the line, show my ticket, and snag one of the few open seats on the upper level of the bus.
Two levels, why, that fucking shitty bus company must be fancy, you might think. How wise of them to get a bus that can hold twice as many people! What one realizes, though, when one steps onto the bus with a dripping wet duffle bag, is that the extra seats take the space of any sort of luggage storage area. Anywhere. So, I shove my duffle where my feet should go, balance my messenger bag on top of it, and resign to sit sideways for the rest of the ride.
Meanwhile, my plan of taking an earlyish bus to dodge the holiday traffic has been foiled by the fucking shitty bus company, so we creep along the highway until the driver decides to take an exit and wander down some side road, which is where we are now.
I've missed my 3PM rehearsal, which I scheduled because we were due into the city at 1:45PM. It's 3:08PM and the city is nowhere near where I am at the moment.
The saving grace here on the Megabus is that there is wireless internet, so I can write about how FUCKING SHITTY it is while actually riding it. How's that for customer feedback?
