Drunk on Greyhound

Hey everyone,

I'm back and here in Charlottesville I have the feeling my Internet access might be consistent.

So one of the most interesting things that has happened to me since we last spoke was actually on a Greyhound bus. Normally interesting things happen there, but this time I got the "pleasure" of being seated right in front of a severe drunk. Well, I had to get from Wilmington (that lovely, lovely place where they filmed Dawson's Creek) to Charlottesville and in order to get there I had a five hour wait in Richmond, VA. As the house had almost passed and we all stood in line, a man kept going back and forth, crossing the line of suitcases, bags and people. He stopped right between me and two younger boys and says "Maybe you want to MAKE A FUCKING PASS HERE!" and starts making all these gestures. Everyone is shocked, but no one does anything, because this guy was less than polite about it. One of the boys, the older one, says "hey, watch your language" and the man stops. "Watch my language" he says in a mocking tone and then goes on to kicking the trash cans around him.

Well, time passes and we go on the bus. I see that the line is extremely long and I just hope that man won't sit next to me. Well, we get on the bus and I sit behind the youngest of the boys, but with a bag on the seat next to me. Just in case. The drunk man comes on. He's about fifty or sixty years old and he looks rough. He stops next to a man who's sitting on the seat close to the isle. "Move over, Rover!" the drunk says. Nothing happens. "Move over, Rover" he tries once more. Again nothing happens. The man does not move. The drunk precedes down the hall and sees the seat next to me. "Well, I'll just sit next to this young lady!" he says and that's when I have eye contact with the boy in the seat in front of me, and say "well, I'll just sit next to you". I get up and so does the boy, letting me have the window seat. We all know that no one wants to sit next to this guy.

So begins the trip where I get to talk to the two young boys, Lonny and Lance as their names were, and the drunk keeps acting like a Bukowski without the talent. First thing he does is to tell jokes with no punchlines and get upset when no one laughs. Lance, the oldest of the boys, can't help but to make fun of this guy, so he says "hey, old man, didn't you hear? They said you can wear hats on the bus" and he points to the cap on the guy, who immediately takes it off. When the dunk starts singing old sailor tunes, the driver gets into the pictures as she starts getting sick of the loud behavior from the drunk guy. Over the intercom she tells him she'll stop the bus to take him off. But nothing happens. He asks Lance if he can't borrow his phone to call his wife, but Lance says he'll do it for him. And that's when a three-way conversation begins with Lance trying to explain to the wife that her husband is drunk on a Greyhound bus, and she tells him to tell her husband not to come home. Oh my. It was all very entertaining, but was I glad when the bus pulled over in Charlottesville.

And that's where I am now. The last Southern State. And now I will leave you to go to Monticello. Catch you later...