Monday, May 30, 2011

Greyhound superstar [maybe the first place Jesus would hang out today]

The following is brought to you by broken and intercepted smart phone service... 'cause smoke signals is just too tacky in the 4G generation.

"Just watch out for all the crazy people." pause. "Wait"- the proverbial giggle and chuckle anticipate the punchline, "whenever somebody wants a relative to come home and doesn't want to put up with them, they put them all on the Greyhound."  It makes sense. I'm crazy and here's how I know:

- A man let's his pants drop while blocking the door to the bus before I even get on the bus and manages to cause fellow transients discomfort while a cigarette sticks out of his mouth. The Driver agitated, brings a wheelchair to aide the man and immediately shoves the man outta the way once off the bus.

- A man is chasing and yelling at the driver persistently badgering and pestering the driver about some piece of great value that was supposed to be on Bozeman that day.  I mean it's 4am and this guy is bold enough to annoy the driver after witnessing the first bit.  The driver angrily mummers "I've got a job to do" because the man is disrupting that duty.  A few moments later, the man emerges with a manilla envelope and unwraps 2 license plates, pumps his fists and smiles a condescending smirk for the rest of us to see.  He drives off in a Land Rover.  Looked like a brand new Land Rover too.

- On the first stop [Butte, MT] I was dutifully and greedily chewed out by a fellow passenger for supposedly not allowing a timid looking foreign couple sit next to me.  I had swollen and puffy eyes and considering I've done far more grievous and offensive things, the woman's patronizing bus patrol tactics were the least of my worries.

I redeemed myself

and

 
 Two Stops latter I'm the mens restroom and I get asked "what tribe are you?'  I am not offended 'cause it's another native and I tell him I'm from Washington.  It didn't feel right talking to a guy while. . . well you get the point.  St. Regis, MT- it's our breakfast stop. For 30 minutes fellow passengers flick cigarette butts, mothers comfort fussy babies, and characteristic to our means of travel, meticulously calculate and recalculate a budget for purchasing snacks.  If I buy now am I willing to sacrifice a meal or snack at future stop?  Decisions decisions.  
Irritated for some reason about being interrupted  because of the way the morning has gone so far I am drinking a black cherry gourmet cream soda and a sausage egg muffin [kinda different now that I think about it.]  I see the fellow native walk by and I feel convicted.  I know how it feels to be on the road, at a food market, uncomfortable and hungry.  I think of my faith and I walk up to the native and ask "hey man, you need anything to eat or drink?" a confused look.  "I mean I can spot you a couple of dollars if you need it man."  Clarity.  "oh no bro, I'm good.  I got some stuff right here.  Shit I thought about getting a beer but that will be later.  Thanks for looking out though."  I go back to my table.
A short time later "you starting early or what?" I look at the pop bottle.  "Nah, it's just pop."  This guy goes on to tell he's coming from Sioux Falls, SD- treatment.  My eyes light up as I tell him I been there before as well.  He asks me it it's for treatment . Laughingly I say no.  We talk about our respective heritages and try to figure if our genealogies cross and we're cousins.  It was nothing.  So I thought.
Now we're in  coeur d'alene, ID and I see the bag of Swedish Fish candy I brought the night before for moments like this.  I need a high after all the thinking I have been just been through.  Mostly it's love sickness and about the woman who I'm still trying to decide if it is lust or love, comfort or commitment.  My native brethren like a cheetah sniffs out that I have Swedish Dish and asks if I he can have some- from halfway up the bus.  I get up and hand the bag to him.  A young guy and young girl in the seat across are asking if it is Swedish Fish.  I turn to walk back to my seat and then offer some to them.  I get left with like 3 but I am rewarded with "you're a good man." 
Then as we get to Spokane, tension is at it's highest.  Another young dude is putting down Spokane as trash and is violently confronted by a woman about how insensitive he's being- this is somebody's home and loved ones are here.  The  young woman who took a good chunk of my Fish is now cussing trying to be cute and to "look hard" as a celebratory means to let everyone know this is her last stop.  She boldly and stupidly yells at the people lined up to exit to "hurry the F^$k up."  This prompts another woman and a mother to chastise her about the indecency of her behavior.  Verbal jarring ensues and the girl impatiently says to the first woman "I'm done to you, you can shut the f^$k up."
The native on his way to Seattle, fresh out of treatment- which he tells me he got kicked out of, asks me for a couple of dollars.  Naively and instantly I reach into my wallet and hand him two dollar bills. He will probably will buy a bottle with that money.

While I am processing this walking off the bus, I let a smile break across my face.

These are Jesus' best friends and the ones he would've wanted around him.  I love being crazy

Nick

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