Wow, yesterday sure did suck! I got about four hours of sleep in me, and then the awesomeness of my day started. I really wish I had brought boots with me, because those streets and sidewalks in New York sure were snowy and slushy, and Chuck Taylors, made of canvas and with two holes on the side of each shoe, are not known for their water resistance. My bag, because I ridiculously packed way too much crap, easily weighed 75 lbs. So one of my sisters loaned me a bag with a shoulder strap to help offset some of that. It helped, but, Jesus!, was it a pain in the keister lugging my luggage around.
Sisters and I were going to take a bus, but we managed to flag down a yellow cab. The guy was a white native New Yorker, which was surprising, but he may have been operating a gypsy cab: the little slot where his medallion ID is to go was empty. Already my feet were drenched. Traffic was nasty, and we were concerned that I wouldn't make my bus, so we got out about halfway and took the train near Penn Station and walked the few blocks to where I was to be picked up. I said goodbye to my sisters and off they went.
I arrived at 34th and 8th at around 11:15, and my bus was due to leave at noon. But Bolt Bus canceled all their trips Sunday and Monday due to the blizzard that dumped two feet into the city, so there were motherfuckers waiting left and right. My feet were soaked and the wind picked up and I felt like my feet were going to freeze and fall off, which would make my life incredibly difficult.
The bus showed up at 12:30. There were people waiting in line with tickets for departures at 11:00 and 11:30. Those buses never showed up, so they got priority seating. Luckily, I was able to get on the bus I had a ticket for because I'm not sure my feet could survive much longer out there. One lady had a ticket for 12:30 and insisted that she be allowed on the bus, and the driver had to keep telling her to back off. He was obviously getting agitated, and I was hoping he would literally rip her head off and punt it. But instead, she got the last available seat. This irked me: she should have at least been bumped. Oh, well. My medical advisor suggested I change my socks once I was on the bus to prevent frost bite. I did have a pair of dry socks stuffed in my coat pocket, though I was obviously reluctant to take my shoes and socks off in the middle of a packed bus.
My 12:00 bus left at around 12:45. The bus was toasty, and my feet warmed up quickly, feeling returning to my toes. So though my feet were drenched I was in no danger of getting frostbite so I left my nasty socks on. The bus was packed with people, but I lucked out and sat beside a tiny lady. It also helped that she was one of the cutest latinas that I've ever seen. Our driver introduced himself as Flash, and he was a nice enough fellow despite dealing with scores of cranky people. Traffic, of course, was a bitch, and after three and a half hours we had only made it to Hartford. Flash pulled the bus into a Burger King, and said we were taking a fifteen minute break. I found this unusual, but I didn't mind: my tailbone and legs were really bothering me so the stretching was AMAZING. Back on the bus, and the rest of the trip, which took an hour and a half, was uneventful save for the dog that had been smuggled onto the bus started yapping up a storm. Luckily I bought headphones the day before, plugged them into guakbot, and drowned the bitch out. We pulled into South Station a little past six. Flash wished us happy holidays and told us we all the power within us to change the world. And then he preached to us about God, and my opinion of Flash quickly soured.
My plan for the night was to stay in Boston with my friend, Michelle. We were to go bowling with her cousins and maybe do some drinking. But, I decided to bail. The lack of boots, the weight of my bags, the lack of sleep. I was miserable and wanted nothing more than to go home. Thankfully she understood and wasn't mad, but I was mighty bummed out by the whole thing.
So, instead of staying the night in Boston I took a 7:15 bus back to Portland. And the ride went off without a hitch! Concord Trailways rocks! There was plenty of leg room, the wi-fi didn't fuck with me, there was no traffic, and there were only twenty people on the bus so I didn't have to sit beside anyone. I got to Portland a little after nine. The second best cab driver in Portland drove me home, and my plan was to stay there. I was to kick back, play a new video game that I got for Christmas, and maybe have a drink or two. But I got a text requesting my presence at The Armory. I figured why not, I had been craving some interaction with folks that are non-kin.
I got to the bar a little after eleven. I won't get into it too much, but one of the people I was with had waaaaay too much drink and was a little tough to take. A little after midnight he decided to pick up one side of the table, making beer spill everywhere. I had reached my wit's end so I grabbed my coat and left without even saying goodbye. Welcome home, Guak!
I met up with Pook and we went to Ruski's, which I had missed terribly. One of the barflies gave me a hug and welcomed me back, and I liked that. Pook and I hung out for a bit, and it was nice. It's rare that just the two of us hang out one-on-one.
I'm glad that my first night back in Portland ended on a high note.
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