I woke up at 4:45am today at my sisters' place in Queens. A solid three hours of sleep. Lately 4:45 is usually when I go to sleep. I'm feeling a bit delirious. I went over to the corner store to buy a pop and and newspaper, and there's a business along the way called "Doshi Diagnostic." I thought to myself it would be funny if it was called "Yoshi Yiagnostic" and giggled. I pictured Yoshi doing yiagnostics, whatever that is. Maybe that's what he calls eating an entire egg (of his own species) and then shitting out a gold coin. Or maybe yiagnostics is some religious thing.
The bus ride from Portland to Boston was very pleasant. The driver made a few jokes and sounded like he was constipated. I kept having to switch from changing the source of my wi-fi from one side of the bus to another (two different routers I'm assuming), but other than that no problems. There were only about a dozen of us so I had plenty of room. The movie was How To Train Your Dragon, but I opted to play with guakbot instead. I strongly recommend Concord Trailways for all your Portland-Boston bussing needs. Those Vermont Whatever busses that operate out of the Greyhound station are pieces of shit.
The ride from Boston to New York was not so nice. The service was The Bolt and advertised free wi-fi, electrical outlets, and plenty of legroom. Bullshit. That bus was not spacious. We were packed in like sardines. At the end of the five hour trip (traffic was thick), my knee and tail bone were both really bothering me. The knee was fine after I was able to walk it off, but my tail bone still hurts a bit. I don't know if it was the rain or what, but the wi-fi shit the bed an hour and a half into the journey. So I alternated between reading (after a few months I'm still picking away at The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay) and playing virtual Hearts. A woman behind me was crying, and a little off-putting. I felt both sad for her and annoyed with her. At least the woman beside me was small (and attractive).
During the Boston-NYC trip I got a call from a friend who received a text from another friend. There was an emergency: my aunt was using my real name on my Facebook wall. It's becoming less and less of a secret what my government name is, but I'm still wagering most people don't know it. I was considering letting it slide, not doing anything about it. But I changed my mind: I must protect the brand. If friends of mine are rallying to protect it, then, God damn it, I should too.
The Bolt bus dropped me off somewhere in Manhattan at 10:30pm, 45 minutes later than scheduled. Not at Port Authority, mind you, but just on the side of the road, in front of some diner called Tick Tock. That's not sketchy or anything. One of my sisters meets up with me, and we take a cab to Queens. The driver asks how we're paying for this, and sister answers with her card. The cabbie tells us he's been having problems with his credit card machine all day, which apparently is a common way for drivers not to have to drive people out of Manhattan. They can't refuse to take us outside the borough (that's against city ordinance), but they sure as shit can find some way to dissuade us. Too bad for that guy Guak only deals in cash.
It's now six in the morning. We're supposed to hit the road at six, but my sisters didn't wake up until 5:45 and only after I yelled at them that it was time to rise and shine. This ten hour car ride to South Carolina is going to suck.
I like being one of the few people who know your true identity, though I kind of think your true identity is Guak and your God given name a secret and out of date identity.
ReplyDeleteI like your way of thinking! And I'll continue to keep my secret identity a secret.
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