My hometown is literally an hour away from Toronto, hour and a half tops so it's crazy that they got so much snow while Toronto had so little. I mean, we have lots compared to other years, but wowza. So yesterday when I hopped on the Greyhound back to Toronto, I was pumped to be able to walk down the street without getting stuck in 4 inches of snow. The excitement, however, was short-lived as soon as I sat down on the bus...
The bus to Toronto is usually busy, but by no means packed; definitely enough space for everyone to have two seats to themselves with maybe a few two-seaters sharing. I made my way to the middle-back of the bus (far enough away from the chatty Kathy's in the front, but not too far back that all I could smell was the rank bus toilet). I had literally just sat down and was fitting my bag under the seat next to me (so that I could leave a seat open just in case it did get packed) when I hear a man obnoxiously clear his throat. I look up, and what do thine eye see? An old man, (and not the sweet, cute kind. The gross, grumpy kind) staring down at me.
"Can you move over one seat?" There was no "excuse me", no "please".
So I nodded reluctantly and scooted over. (It is absolutely necessary for me to mention that not only were there plenty of empty seats at the front of the bus, but there were also three empty freaking rows ahead of me). The man, we'll call him Henry, he looked like a Henry sat down and shoved what can only be described as a miniature man-purse in between he and I aggressively as if to say, that is your side, and this is mine (um, hello? You could have had your own row, kindly eff off). By this time, I'm thinking I'm in for a real treat, and we haven't even left the terminal yet. Still waiting to depart, Henry pulled out one of those old school cloth hankies and proceeded to blow his nose. Loudly. It was like he was Louis Freakin' Armstrong playing "When The Saints Go Marching In" with his adenoids.
So attempting to remain sane, I popped my headphones in and pulled out my book to keep myself occupied for the next hour and twenty minutes. I got about two minutes into In The Air Tonight before he pulled the hankie out again and started blowing his nose (was he blowing it louder this time?). He continued to do this every five minutes for about 45 minutes of the drive until he fell asleep.
How did I know he fell asleep? Well, that would be due to that fact that his head was slowly drifting closer and closer to my shoulder with ever bump or blip the bus had. I was pushing myself so close the window that I had the imprint of the arm rest on my ribs.
When we finally pulled into the station in Toronto, he jerked up, yanked his purse out from between us, and pulled out not one, not two, but three different medication bottles and starts taking them as the bus starts to clear out. So I had to wait for him to put everything away until I could actually leave the bus and go home. Yeesh.
I take the bus almost every week I go back home, and I've never had an experience like this! I was just so exhausted because day-light savings kicked my butt so hard I couldn't handle it.
Have you guys ever had a similar experience?