The Worst Night of My Life Happened on a Greyhound Bus

in #life7 years ago (edited)

Here is a rare picture of me sitting beside an asshole.

I hope the asshole stopped doing drugs.

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The Holiday Season, 2014

The bus ride from hell.

I remember arriving early. I took my seat and eagerly awaited the call to board.

The downtown Edmonton, Alberta bus terminal. Not a place for the faint-hearted, at all. I made sure to put on the right costume before I left the house that day.

Ron, my neighbor at the time, gave me some of the best advice I'd ever heard in my life. "Dress down, don't dress up. Try to blend in with these people and they won't mess with you. If they're acting crazy, act crazier... you'll be fine."

I took those words with me everywhere I went. When I lived there, I didn't own a safe space, no car. Everyday I had to throw myself into the mix. I crossed paths with people most of us only see on the side of the road as we zip by, or on an episode of Cops. I never showed any fear, and these people sensed that.

I remember some of those nights on the public transit buses.

A drunk couple, dressed nice, boarding the city bus for the first time because it was cheaper than a cab. Nervous. Glued to their cellphones. Shutting out everything and everyone around them. Seeking their safe space. I made sure to keep my eye on them since they didn't seem to know how to do it themselves.

They didn't really know where they were when they got off that bus. Google maps was the only brain they had. It was late and Google didn't know how bad that neighborhood was.

The last thing I remember was his face all lit up, glowing blue, in the darkness. Holding that damn phone, wearing those nice clothes. I'm certain his girlfriend cried that night after watching someone come out of nowhere, punch her man in the face, and snatch the phone. I doubt they even had a chance to walk for five minutes before it all went down.

Now Where Was I?

Ah yes. The bus terminal.

Sitting across from me was probably the most beautiful woman I had ever seen in my life. We kept glancing at each other at the exact same time then quickly looking away until we both got bored of it. With a simple smile, we silently agreed this was neither the time nor the place to get to know someone and came to terms with the fact we'd never see each other again.

Finally, it's time to stand up and get in line. We stood next to each other, her and I. Part of me was thinking, I should sit next to this chick on the bus. The other part was thinking, we're nearly at the front of the line, I want my own damn seat and I hope no one sits beside me because I would love that, but if she sits beside me I'll be okay with that, but I won't sit beside her because there will be so many empty seats that I'd probably just seem like a creeper if I did sit beside her. Why does life have to be so hard...

Then I heard my name. I was not expecting that. I turned around, there's my old friend Dan with his new wife and some other chick wearing an adult sized Spiderman onesie. How did I not notice this mess standing behind me? That's right. That woman I can't stop talking about was stunning. Plain and simple.

Dan and I did the whole, wow, I didn't expect to see you here introduction and then he handed the mic over to his wife who introduced herself. Spiderchick just stood there. We all had a good laugh about how small this world of ours is and during that moment was the first time I saw the asshole.

I could tell by the walk. He was high on something. Opiates, I'm sure. Half there, half asleep. I overheard his buddy tell him they won't allow him on the bus if he doesn't make himself look clean. I thought to myself, I'm so happy he's at the end of the line.

The Beautiful Woman Boarded a Different Bus

I felt so alone.

My walk of shame ended near the back of the bus. I knew this seat would be a good choice because I had been drinking coffee all day and didn't want to have to make a scene every time I needed to use the toilet.

I sat, I waited, the bus slowly started to fill, and I was somehow still sitting alone. I was thinking wow, this disguise works, everyone is afraid to sit beside me. Awesome.

Then in stumbles the asshole. He was the last one to get on the bus, the seat beside me was the last empty seat.

Fuck-My-Life

"Do you mind if I sit here," said his mouth, somehow.

My mind's tellin' me NO! But my body! My body only needs one chair!

So, he sits down.

The bus hasn't started moving yet, he's already falling forward. He hits his head on the seat in front of him which in turn startles him so he then flings himself back into his seat with force which also startles him. I'm thinking, fuck. This is going to be a long eleven hours.

Once the bus did start moving, every turn meant he was holding on for dear life. He grabbed my left leg a few times. I suggested it would be a good time to stop touching me. He apologized, but didn't stop touching me.

Roughly every twenty minutes, he would nod off. Each time that happened, he'd lean over and start cuddling me. No matter how hard I tried to think about that beautiful woman, I just couldn't find a way to put myself in the mood for these cuddles. I felt like telling him I had a headache but feared the pain medicine he'd pull out of his pocket to offer as assistance.

Patience

Something I ran out of.

He'd lean over to cuddle, I'd push him back to where he belongs. He was entering my safe space and at that point I started to understand what so many people are hiding from in this world.

My pushing became aggressive. I wanted to push him so hard that he'd fly out of the bus and land in a snow bank so he could chill out for a few hours and reflect on a few things. I didn't have enough strength, unfortunately.

I looked through my backpack hoping to find some tape. I thought if I could just tape his head to the seat, everything would be okay. I forgot to bring tape and that's probably for the best because taping someone to a seat is typically frowned upon in our society.

The highways are nice straight lines around here, for the most part. It seemed like his ass had finally settled into a groove and life was becoming stable again.

I had chosen this bus because it was a night trip and I had planned to sleep it off and wake up in a different province ready to have fun with my family. I nodded off for about thirty minutes, then started to feel warm, so I woke up. The bastard was cuddling me again.

I pushed him, again. I didn't realize I was capable of being so angry. This time he fell out of his chair and into the aisle. He didn't even know I pushed him. He thought he just fell, again. Just a normal day for him.

Of Course

There's always a hero...

Some dude sitting behind us had apparently seen enough. He didn't know the part about the cuddling and the morphine or the heroin or whatever the hell this dude was on. He just saw the shove.

He storms to the front of the bus to tattle on me. The driver pulls over. I'm thinking, oh shit, here we go.

The driver handled it like a pro. He asked me if there was a problem. I explained how this gentleman sitting beside me was not respecting the space I purchased. I did not mention how high he was or how much he enjoyed touching me because I wanted to get home to my family.

Sitting on the side of the highway in the dark while we wait for the police to show up was not something I felt like doing that night. The driver took a good look at the asshole, then gave me the look that told me he's in no mood for waiting for the police either. We both silently agreed to simply power through this trip, get it over with, put it in the past, enjoy our holidays.

Unfinished Business

I was tired, bored, and had way too much time to think.

I had a score to settle with this hero of ours. I wasn't going to start pushing him around because, well, he looked soft. Nice clothes and a face that shone blue in the night. He thought he was safe.

We stopped for fuel and I decided to stretch my legs.

I went into the store and purchased a half liter of chocolate milk. My guts do not agree with milk, at all. I combined that with a small portion of raw veggies. Broccoli, cauliflower, carrots and celery. That furnace was now blowing high heat.

The hero was sitting behind me and much closer to the toilet than I was. I gave it a few hours. Held on for as long as I could, then it was time.

I got up and tried to be as quiet as possible. Stealth mode.

I made the biggest stink I've ever made in my entire life. I walked out of that little washroom prouder than hell, left the door wide open and gave our hero a little nod as I walked back to my seat.

He got up fast and slammed that door as hard as he could. I'm sure that woke everyone up. Many people looked back at that moment. All they saw was him going back to his seat...

Then, all they could smell was what HE just did.
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~The end.~

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All art and images seen here were produced digitally, by me.
"My hero!"
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BRAVO!
👏👏👏👏👏
Thoughtful planning, zero possible negative repercussion upon you, sweet delivery of karma, executed with panache and (no doubt) unique flavour.
FLAWLESS VICTORY

Flawless victory, indeed.

~Takes a bow~

Every public official should have to take the bus at least once a month. Distance, in-town, whatever. Just take it, to try to actually get somewhere. So many people rely on buses. It's a real slice of actual life, not the distilled variety at the airports. It's an unfiltered beer, shook up. At least he didn't start getting into your business, just your space. Here's to surviving and being able to push out the revenge action while it's all still happening.

I think those public official types would have a meltdown if they were put in a position to experience actual life. I like the beer analogy.

You really have some great stories and it's always interesting to hear about the real person behind the daily art and colorful posts. It's nice in the end the driver didn't make you mess with cops and the "hero" got what he deserved for tattling on situation he didn't understand.

Those drivers are hardened. They've seen it all before, and I mean everything. I won't mention the gruesome incident though. There's a big difference between someone on meth bouncing off the walls and someone half asleep on opiates. They're harmless, to others. He knew that and I guess in a way reminded me, with those eyes, to calm down. ... so yeah, I focused my energy on some other shit. That ending... It happened, but there was no way I could plan that part. Everything just fell into place perfectly. Yup! That's what you get!

Thank you for your kind words @marxrab.

A fine revenge! I hate those tools that interfere workout knowing what they are really up to.

That rough neighborhood sound like most places in Glasgow lol

They just jump to conclusions and save the day! Meanwhile, back in reality land... nobody likes them. Well, I'm sure his mother still thinks he's cool, and that's cool. Cool!

My street smarts might work here, but I don't know how far they'd get me in Glasgow. Our football rules are a little bit different, if you know what I mean.

I think they would work just fine. Or you could stay away from the bad bits lol

...but then it's not an adventure, @meesterboom.

Dude you seriously get the best comments. People were really into this...okay I was really into this, that's a true gift to take all of us on that trip with you- I was there, metaphorically, getting irritated with the dope trying to lay on my shoulder.

And the hero, fucking priceless--sadly the chic in me could not have set such an awesome trap hahaha!

Isn't that annoying! Get off me! Big guy too. Short but round. If I would have woke up with his face in my crotch... I'd probably still be in prison.

As for that hero... I've said it here in the comments already but it's worth saying again. It was not my fault. I had no idea he'd end up drawing all that attention to himself. The world did that to him. Those mysterious forces. I sat there and knew right away what he ended up doing to himself and I'm actually laughing as I type this. All I could think at the time was... YES! Mission complete!

As for the gift, as you called it... I just put myself there, again, and start talking. I can do it around a campfire or a table as well, on the fly. As long as I was there, it's easy to tell a story. These days, when I feel like telling a story, I'm interrupted or competing with people glued to their damn phones, pretending to listen. I'm rambling, but I really enjoy this writing stuff.

Haahaaaha, that is probably going to pop in my head at random times all day and since I'm going to be at a family event that means I'm going to look like a lunatic for laughing out of context, but him slamming the door and everyone looking back then catching a whiff...oh fuck, my stomach hurts.

Glad you enjoy this writing stuff, because picturing you laughing as you're reliving it just made it twice as funny.

Wait a minute, buddy! The worst night of your life, the major asshole and the other lil misfortunes that took place that night and your undeniable wicked sense of humor combined with skills of writing have made you about a hundred dollars (more in reality, but I am not good with math and SD exchange to real $$$). Be thankful to the major asshole you ungrateful nameless writer :P LOL
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I cherish my life experiences. The worst night of my life was actually one of my greatest, but I didn't know that in real time. It's easy to look back and laugh. That's how I roll. I have a few other stories about my life that were terrible times and I know damn well I'll find a way to laugh at the whole thing when I start talking about those too. People keep encouraging me in the form of votes and these amazing comments, so of course I'm grateful. You keep watching. You'll notice I say the words thank you quite often... and I mean it. Those words aren't part of my copy/paste credits reel and for good reason. They mean nothing if it's only spam. Thanks for giving me an opportunity to say all this, and I like the picture. Snazzy! Tongue in cheek comments are awesome too! I think I enjoy those the most.

Well yeah, nothing good can come of riding the bus. They filmed episodes of Cops in Canada?

No, they don't film Cops in Canada, but we do have televisions here so we get to see it. There is a show called To Serve and Protect. It was filmed in Canada. A lot of it took place in Edmonton.

As always, a masterful storyteller. My dad used to own a greyhound bus station. You get all sorts. You are better than me. I would have moved to the step by the driver. Bus cuddles. ugh.... :) good story. Blessings.

Indeed, all kinds. Every walk of life will eventually find a reason to stop walking and start riding.

Thank you for enjoying this little ride today.

I like this advise from your friend: "Dress down, don't dress up. Try to blend in with these people and they won't mess with you. If they're acting crazy, act crazier... you'll be fine."

It's a wise, pragmatic response to the crazy world.

There's a thing in this world called a mark. You don't want to be one of those, ever.

Like your writing styles! You just made the story become so interesting haha. And you can remember the details so well even though its been years ago!

I've sat around with friends and family and talked about that night on a few occasions, so the memory stays fresh because of that. Of course, when we're talking we are constantly interrupted and it becomes difficult to describe the situation to a tee. I've been wanting to write this one down for a long time. I'm glad I finally did and thank you for enjoying it with me.

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