7:00 a.m.: Wake up still drunk. Why did I book a 9 a.m. Megabus again?
7:06 a.m.: Gotta have my bowl, gotta have cereal.
7:11 a.m.: Stuff any clean clothes I can get my hands on into a duffle bag. I’ll just rest my eyes for a few minutes.
8:08 a.m.: Wake up again. Slightly less drunk. Some people would call this progress. Most would call it irresponsible.
8:37 a.m.: Arrive at bus station. Wonder whom I’ll be sitting next to. Please let it not be the guy wearing two fedoras. Two. On top of each other.
8:55 a.m.: Board the bus. At least I get a window seat. Large burly man sits next to me. He tells me his name is Charles, but that I can call him Grits.
8:56 a.m.: “Wait, like the food? I… ok.”
9:03 a.m.: And we’re off. Grits offers me some Twizzlers. I knew I liked him.
9:47 a.m.: Grits and I have a lengthy conversation starting with The Phantom Tollbooth and ending with the general merits and faults of Joss Whedon’s television shows. I wonder how my parents would act if I told them I was in love with a man named Grits?
1:10 p.m.: We make our first stop. Grits gets off. Consider chasing after him. Decide against it. We’ll always have Harrisburg.
1:15 p.m.: My new seatmate is Ms. New Booty. We eye each other with mutual cattiness.
1:58 p.m.: Ms. New Booty has been on her phone for 45 minutes. I literally didn’t think it was possible for someone to talk about Glee for this long.
2:17 p.m.: I want to know who made the decision to block Netflix on Megabus. Seriously, whothought that was a good idea? A plague on both your houses.
2:36 p.m.: Ms. New Booty asks me to turn down my music. It… it… the f… it… flam… flames. Flames, on the side of my face. Burning. Heaving breaths.
2:44 p.m.: I miss Grits.
3:42 p.m.: Against all odds we arrive at 30th Street Station without Ms. New Booty having any mysterious “accidents.” I am back on campus. Now where can I get a drink around here?
