lord of the bus stations

i had already drank a lot before i got to the bus station, this is purely unedited, ranting. it kinda goes a little down but it has a happy ending. like the wizard of oz.

location: bust station in tampa
state: not happy
alllllright. my good friend bill from LA drove down to orlando to hangout. after several beers we head downtown for a taste of orlando night life. we make it to downtown and are about to park when we see a non factory paint job ford crown vic, huge rims, plow into a another car at a stop light. big black dude gets out of car, walks up to front of car, does the “omfg wtf” dance in front of his bumper. best visual ever.

we end up at a club named Independence, a huge club, multiple rooms, different music in every room and super hot girls dressed in black. i really don’t understand why i waste money on strip clubs when i can go to any club here and watch someone else’s girlfriend dance but keep her clothes on.

i stuck with beer the entire time but bill and friend keith have other ideas in mind. they start doing irish car bombs. oh yeah, bill’s friend keith is a serious alcoholic, like “i just got out of jail after my 3 dui’s” alcoholic. i always feel so guilty hanging out with people owned by police because of the great luck iv’e had with police, kinda like white guilt but worse. keith is on probation too so if he gets arrested or even have his ID run, the police will know and not be happy that he left the county he’s restricted to. anyway.

i leave bill and keith to get another beer and they begin to thumb wrestle. a bouncer asks where keith’s wristband is, he doesn’t know. bouncer says he has to go to front of bar and get another one if he’s really 21. then they ask us to leave. was pretty good timing since i had already paid my tab.

we get back to where bill parked. he’s driving a racing yellow hyundai turambio or whatever they fuck they call their high end 6 speed 2 door racing model. bill asks if i want to drive. sure, i love driving. especially while drunk.

i forget exactly how much fun driving a standard transmission car was. i somehow manage to get us back to swede’s house, after having to stop and ask for directions several times. when we finally start recognizing landmarks, we stop and buy some beer for when we get home. i stay in the car with keith and bill goes in. a squad car pulls in and 2 angry looking orlando officers walk inside. keith decides he wants to go inside too. after i try to convince him that staying in the car and acting sober, he is 100% sure that he wants to go inside.

i sit in the car and start to build my “i’ve never seen this guy before in my life” story if he comes out in handcuffs. much to my surprise, bill and keith exit the BP without a police escort.

we go back to swede’s, bill and keith pass out in the guest bedroom and i take a short nap on the couch.

we wake up, have a beer and head to the train station. since we have no idea where we are going, i miss my train from orlando to miami. damn. i head with them to tampa and order a bus ticket. it leaves at 6pm from tampa, 2 hour layover in orlando. i get in at 3am.

i call alex and let him know that my plans have been fucked. we eventually find the bus station in tampa and they drop me off with 6 warm budweisers and 2 cigerettes.

i have to wait 2 hours before the bus leaves here too. just me and my laptop and the buzz i still have from drinking luke warm beer.

the bus station here has just about as many characters as a normal bus station has. i am such a target, sitting here with my thousands of dollars worth of hardware. soberiety is starting to sneak in with each minute of depressing internet typing. i really wonder how much it’ll cost to get from the miami bus station to alex’s apartment. i ask alex if he knows remotely where it is and he says he has no idea, says i’ll probably end up in Pylia with a bunch of demons. he’s probably right.

i really wonder how pissed alex will be that im going to have to wake him at up at 3:30am when my bus gets there. i really wonder if i can drink beer on the bus. this will probably be a terrible experience but maybe i’ll um learn something or get some fairy tail happy ending but it’ll probably just suck.

really pissed i missed train, should have went the night before and slept at the station. oh well, like my sober friends always say, you have to accept the things you cannot change, like being sober.

okay, time to pack up laptop, drag my bags outside and smoke another cigerette, bum cigerettes and hopefully meet someone humorous enough to make all of this worth while.

a hour since last typing. smoked last cigerette, a newport, then bummed another cigerette off a cabbie. cigerettes are so stupid. so much inhaling and so much money with so little reward. going to start shaking soon if i don’t start drinking again. thinking about taking a beer from the backpack and pounding it in the bathroom except i really don’t trust any of my fellow bus riders to watch my stuff.

this sucks. i hate places that i can’t drink at. this is american for fuck’s sake. people are dying every second to defend that little freedom i have. we still have a stigma attatched to drinking that all the soldier’s blood in the world can’t repair tho. i think it’s the hypocricity that is really stressing me out, i can go outside and bum a cigerette and get high off legal taxed drug but i’ll go straight to jail if i drink in public.

blah that’s just the bitterness talking. america is great. i get away with more shit here then i probably could in any other imperial nation. i should quit my bitching. after all, life is fine.

and another thing.

location: bus
condition: getting wet, 1 budwesier in stomach, 1 corona and 1 budwesier left in bag

okay, on bus. never been on a greyhound before so im going to just chalk all this up to a new life experience that will make me grow as a human and enhance my soul with new experience goodness.

typing out over and over might actually make me believe in it.

so i get on the bus and win by finding a seat by myself. about 15 minutes into the bus ride it starts to pour down rain, which it seems to do every 15 minutes here in florida. i lean back and think “oh cool, going to enjoy watching it rain from my window seat, very relaxing. i notice a strange wet feeling on my shoulder. sweet, our bus is leaking. we change lanes and a huge stream of water pours from the roof of our bus. the kids in the row above me get soaked. i almost spill my beer laughing. leaking bus for the win.

once we leave the bus station the bus driver gives us a little introduction. he says his name(can’t remember) and says something about how we can’t have illegal drugs or alcohol while on the bus. everyone in 2 rows stares at me, my laptop and my open beer bottle. i give everyone a “please don’t tell, seriously, this is medication” look and they all turn around. i keep thinking of that csi episode where the disgrunlted mechanic at the bus depot sabotages a bus and kills almost everyone inside just because he got fired after being drug tested. stupid csi based paranoia nightmares.

the bus isn’t really as bas as i thought it was going to be. despite the water dripping on my shoulder and the huge gaping hole in the roof that is pouring water on the kids in front of me, it’s not bad. my only complaint besides the water dripping down my shoulder is the smell of the people in front of me but all and all this won’t be a bad 6 hours to spend my evening.

i can’t wait to make new and exciting friends at the bus station in orlando in my 2 hour layover before i head back to miami. i’ve heard wonderful stories of all kinds of exotic sexual experiences in bus station bathrooms and i guess i’m ready to experience one.

laptop battery is about to die, going to have to switch to typing on the tablet in a few minutes. once that battery dies i’m going to finish this update scribbling on the newspaper i bought.

toad did not get all love in the world today.

yeah so the bus and train tickets were the same price but i would have had to sleep in the train station tonight and take the train tommorow morning, which would have been a equally tramautizing experience as taking the bus and getting to miami at 3am.

i think i left my cell phone charger at swede’s. i am ruining my own vacation with my poor life choices. the rain water soaking into my hair isn’t helping. does this count as bathing for Sunday? wow i think i also left my shampoo, conditioner and soap at swede’s also. i am such a fuck up. so glad i have alcohol to blame my problems on.

anyway, i get to orlando, 2 hour layover there. 2 hours is a long fucking time. i force myself to chew down some bus station pizza. i can’t tell if it tastes like shit because im a alcoholic and food never sounds good, or the fact that i just got it from a bus station.

i notice that im starting to freak out since a)i can’t drink in public here and b) i don’t have any power outlets to charge up the laptop and entertain myself.

i rock back and forth and stare around the room. i find 3-4 small pieces of paper and a pen in my bag and start writing random words. it turns into a song which i will someday write music for named Bathroom Blowjob. it’s sad state of affairs when my brain goes into freakout mode if i don’t something to manically type into.

back on bus, sit in back again, drink the last of my warm budweisers and wait. we make a pit stop. finally, cold beer. i run in, grab a “Giant Stick” of Oberto, sunflower seeds, and a tall boy of bud ice. the clerk takes the can and puts it behind the counter. “we can’t sell that to you”. “why not?” “because it’s after midnight on a sunday” . If the damn woman driving the bus had gone like 3 mph more i could ice cold refreshing tall boy. But now i’m doomed to luke warm budweiser. makes me want to puke just thinking about it.

wtf

we finally get to miami, but there’s a miami west stop and a miami north stop. luckily i bought the bus driver a cup of coffee at one of the previous stops. i’m standing there with my pda mumbling off street names where alex lives at. miami west it is.

next step, cab ride home

for some reason my atm card isn’t working correctly down here. i have like a 50% success rate. we hit 2 gas stations, card is refusing to work. i call alex and ask him if he has any cash. thank fucking god.

i dart to the elevator, grab the cash, back down elevator, pay my jamaican cab driver.

left orlando at 9:30am, arrive in miami 3:30am the next day. in retrospect after i missed my train, i should have just put on the skates and hit the interstate. would have been faster.