This past weekend, I spent three glorious days in the newest, hottest vacation spot: Lansing, Mich. I was there for a conference, and oh my gosh, was it sort of fun! Conferences are fun because you get a ton of free things, like lime-green messenger bags and water bottles and T-shirts. That’s why they’re fun, and I’m sticking to that.
But the most incredible experiences really come from spending 1 zillion—or maybe 16-—hours on a bus there and back. I’ve always thought that coach buses are like airplanes, only they’re on the ground, astoundingly less efficient and much more anger inducing. You might say, “Oh, Jackie! What could possibly be more fun than being on a bus with a whole group of best buddies and potential BFFs?” Well, I might then scream back at you, “Being on a bus with a bunch of strangers who maybe haven’t encountered a shower lately and just have the best voices and the best stories!” When I say “best,” I clearly mean another qualifying word, in case you are new to the art of sarcasm.
Please, please, please. Continue on about how you have been to “exotic” places such as Africa, Peru and the Arctic Circle. Gosh golly me, it really does warm my heart to hear how you went there to help all those people who clearly would not have survived if you hadn’t made those bricks for them! All hail you and your savior self!
Is this too harsh? Do I care? I’m not sure. I do know that, while I might be able to offer some “comments” on your story on stable land, I am unable to do that while we are two inches away from one another on a moving bus for the next seven hours. Also, you are wearing zebra Zubaz pants, and I just can’t handle it. OMG! Did you get those in Africa?! Supes cute!
This, my Cardinal sweethearts, is just one example of the super-fun times I’ve had on this bus so far. Does it help the tone of this article that I’m still on the bus as I write it, staring at this woman whose zebra pants glare in the dark of the bus? LOL. That’s all I can say, you guys.
As I sit here with my laptop crammed in my crotch, my elbow slowly breaking every one of my seat-mate’s ribs, I become less angry, because I’m talking to you. Also, because I have “Love On Top” by Beyonce blasting through my headphones on repeat. Many of you likely know this agony all too well—and perhaps to an even greater extent. Maybe we can get together and swap stories about new “friends” we made on buses and hug each other as we shudder to remember these “friends.”
I usually really enjoy coach buses because I can put on music to look out the window and pretend I’m in a movie where I’ve just decided to leave the greatest love of my life, and now, I’m just really melancholy. But no such luck on this trip, y’all.
Now, I turn to thoughts of my bed, where, hopefully, there are no zebra-pants-wearing, Africa-going ladies. Just wine and my stuffed Nala.
Are you lookin’ for a new bus buddy for your next trip? Hit up Jackie at jacklin.bolduan@gmail.com so you can tell her all your stories from trips abroad.
