Bus Stories

I'm all out of trip stories until I get back from Boston, and I'm in a writing mood for some reason...so I thought I'd just write about a couple of my bus misadventures over the last few months. Most of the weird shit that happens to me either happens in another city, or on a trip to/from work on public transit. For those that disagree with this...waking up on the living room floor is not "weird" to me anymore. I've accepted this as an every-weekend thing, and you should too dammit.

Bobblebody

So I'm sitting there on the bus minding my own business, listening to something lame on my ipod most likely (go Shedaisy!)...and I notice the guy beside me is...swaying. He's standing up, holding onto the pole...and he's sorta leaning back and forth with the motions of the bus in an extremely over the top kinda way. At first I think he's faking it, trying to entertain someone...but then I actually look at his face. This mofo is asleep. Standing up. Holding onto the pole, and flopping around like an ugly hippie salmon. This is kinda funny, but not overly unusual for public transit...so I go back to doing my crossword. A minute or so later...

CLUNK. I feel like I just got hit on the dome with a frying pan.

After the initial OWWWWWTF!!, I look up to see ballet-hippie saying something to me...yup, he's apologizing. This douchebag...no, motherfucker...no, something meaner! was fucking swaying away, and he leaned over far enough to fucking headbutt me! At first I just rubbed my head in amazement, but I got mad reaaaaally quickly.

Dipshit: "Dude, I'm so sor-!"

Me: "What the fuck is that matter with you?"

Dipshit: "I'm really sorry man. I guess I fell asleep, and when the bus turned the corner..."
Me: "Are you fucking retarded? You ever heard of staying awake when you're standing up? I can't believe I just said that to another human being!"

Dipshit: "I'm sorry man, I've been up since early, and I just can't stay awake, and..."

Me: "RED BULL, ASSHOLE. Try it, I did. Everyone on here got up early to go to work too, you don't see them swaying around like they're autistic!"

Dipshit: Dude, I'm sorry, I..."

Me: "Get the fuck away from me. GO. NOW! *pointing at the back of the bus* NOW! And get a fucking helmet."

I stood up, and he realized I was muuuch bigger than him. He practically ran to the back.
My head hurt for a long time. Bastard. There is a slightly more humorous part to this though...it occured a couple of weeks later. Bobblebody got on a few stops after I did, and the only seat left on the bus was, coincidentally, beside me. He came down the aisle, and halfass-attempted to sit...I just said "Don't even fucking think about it retard"...and as quickly as he attempted to sit, he got right back up and went to the back of the bus. Didn't say anything, didn't look at me, nuthin. I OWN THIS PANSY. I think the best part was, a few stops later, he did manage to get a seat...I looked back, and he was swaying away in the aisle, his whole upper body bobbing back and forth. The fucking idiot couldn't even sleep right while he was SITTING DOWN. Hippies these days.


Lucky Lager Bad!

Every couple of weeks, my boss is nice enough to grab some beer for us to drink at the end of our shift on fridays. Kam (other tracer) is, as my boss puts it, a "high maintenance brown guy", so he always wants MGD...he doesn't like anything else. Sometimes my boss obliges, other times he gets shitty beer just to mess with him...cuz he knows I'll drink anything. This particular week, he grabbed Lucky Lager.

If you don't know what Lucky is...well, I'll try to describe it with as much racial sensibility as possible. Basically, it's what the First Nations people in BC primarily drink....so much, that it's become associated to them. It's "native beer". It's not terrible or anything, it's just...well, cheaper than most beers. I'm just gonna lay it out here...if you drink Lucky, it's pretty much assumed that you have a drinking problem. Sorry Two Buffalos, paleface say Lucky bad...I apologize for my people. I like your beer...that's all that matters, right?

Please don't kill me.

Anyways, Kam attempted to drink one, but couldn't even get halfway though it. That left the whole case for me and my boss. After a few, I had to run and catch the (early) bus, so my boss gave me "one for the road". I arrived at the bus stop, and there was absolutely no one around...so I thought I'd crack the beer and finish it quickly before the bus came. I don't normally take this bus, but it was pretty early so I figured not many people frequented it. Yes, I was in public, and yes the bus stop is on a busy street...but there's no sidewalk, so foot traffic is rare. And cars whipping by at 70 kph aren't going "Hey, fatty's got a Lucky!" Well, unless their last name has an animal in it...anyways, that's a whole other story.

So there I am, enjoying my (ghetto) beer...when 6 people just show up outta NOWHERE. They must have been hiding behind the tree or something, cuz they seriously appeared outta thin air. Suddenly, I had 6 witnesses to my bus stop Lucky. And none were giving me an approving look. 'A unanimous look of disgust' would cover it, actually. David Blaine and his friends just show up outta nowhere and ruin my serenity. I need to pay more attention, apparently.

The best part was...2 of the guys were native.

"I think that's a Lucky!" one said to the other, loud enough for me to hear.

I actually laughed at that. What are the chances? To top it off, there's no garbage can at the bus stop....so after I shotgunned the thing, I couldn't even get rid of the evidence. I had to put the bottle into my backpack, which got me a few more choice stares.

Yea, I don't take the early bus anymore...even if I get off early. I wait. As long as it takes. Across the street, behind a building...so they can't see me. That, and so I can enjoy my Lucky in peace dammit.

That'll do, donkey.

Reno/Cali with 2 bitches, part 2

Yea, I took way too long to write the finale of this thing. So long that I might forget details of it, which would suck. Well, I have Old milwaukee and Lady Gaga to help me remember...so, let's roll bitches. If any of you have a problem with my tardiness:



I thought so.

3 hours sleep isn't much fun. Instead of sleeping till 3 minutes before checkout like normal people, we were up at the crack of 9am. I blame Jess, although I'm not sure why. After lollygagging for a while, we went to grab the rental vehicle...and they upgraded us to an SUV. Sweet...or so we thought. Something was wrong with it, but we couldn't figure out what for a while. It kept lurching to the left for no particular reason. Not exactly fun when you're driving through the Sierra Nevadas.

We stopped for gas after an hour or so, and they sold some odd energy drink I've never had before. Jess and I bought one each, and started reading the label after our purchase. It actually said on the bottle that the thing could kill us...somethin about heart attacks and fat people. I was impressed. I shotgunned mine, cuz that's what the cool kids do, and got a pretty scary buzz off of it. Jess got high too and decided the vehicle lurch was fun to tease Jim and I with. So...my heart is on overdrive, I'm nervous and twitchy....and Jess is laughing and trying to kill us. I'd like to say that's abnormal for us...but sadly, it's not.

I shoulda taken the fucking bus. If I'm gonna die, I wanna do it with a beer in my hand at least...not the Oh Shit Bar of a Hyundai Eggroll. Or whatever they're called. Luckily though, my homie Karma was along for the ride...

Once the vehicle (and my heartbeat) levelled out a bit, it was smooth sailing to Rogers. We didn't actually know his address, and his development was so new it wasn't even on the map yet...but our educated guess worked out pretty damn well and we only missed by 2 blocks.

*SIDE NOTE*

An 18 year old girl just called me "dollface". On the internet. Sadly, this was the highlight of my night.

*TANGENT BITTERLY OVER*

Anyways, the rest of the day was pretty lax. We just chilled and got re-acquainted with Roger and Marg and the world's 2nd coolest dog, Pepe. Jess, however, wasn't feeling so hot. Apparently his energy drink took a little while longer than mine to kick in...cuz he thought he was having a heart attack for a while. Who knew heart attacks could be so funny?

On the way back from a beer run, Jess mentioned that very few people in his neighbourhood took care of their lawns. Roger's response caught me off guard:

"Um, that's cuz no one lives in most of them. A lot of them were foreclosed upon".

I hadn't even considered that till he said it. Apparently the whole area was pretty hard-hit by the mortgage crisis. Reason 452725871 I'm glad to be Canadian.

After a nice relaxing day of beer (Natty Light, bitches!) and a night on the world's comfiest couch, it was onto to San Fran the next day. The plan was to check out the city for the day, and go sailing the next morning. I had been to San Fran once before, but it was in November. After 10 minutes there, I remembered why I travel in the fall...there were people everywhere. We had to wait like 45 minutes for a cable car in hurricane-style winds. After wandering around for a while, we went to the top of the Marriott (the 4574th floor or some shit), and had a couple of beers. The view was pretty good and all, but I wasn't going anywhere near the window. Tim + heights = poopy pants, remember?

Onto dinner we go. We went to a nice seafood restaurant down on the water on the other side of the bridge. Normally dinner wouldn't be worth mentioning, but....this one definitely was. I don't even remember what Roger or I had, but Jess and Jim had clams, this I do remember. Onto the hotel...Jess and I were hyped about game 6 of the Sharks/Stars series, but we couldn't get it on the TV in the hotel. We streamed it on his laptop for the first period, but that got old quick...so we went to a bar across the street to check it out. We were an hour from San Jose, and I was wearing my Stars jersey. I wasn't expecting anyone to actually care, but the hate I received in the bar was almost heartwarming.

Oh yea, Jim stayed behind in the hotel...he wasn't feeling so good. Can I get foreshadowng for 1600, Alex?

4 of the first 5 games in the series had gone to overtime...and this one was no different. OT started at 10pm...Nabokov made an unreal save to keep the Sharks in it in the first OT. Onto the 2nd...and the 3rd....and the 4th!?! It was well past midnight when the Stars FINALLY finished the Sharks off. It was awesome. The bar wasn't too happy, but it was a helluva good game and a lot of fun to watch. Oh, and I don't think we were too sober.

So we wobble back to the hotel and settle down for the night. There were only 2 beds in the room, and 4 of us, and we're not the cuddly types...so I slept on the floor by the patio door, and Jess slept on the floor near the bathroom. After a couple of hours, I awoke to a strange gurgling noise. I brushed it off as my imagination, but then I heard it again....coming from above me. I sat up and looked at Jim...he was still asleep (I think) on his back...gurgling. Mount McCock was about to erupt. He finally woke up, sat up, and raced to the bathroom.

And kicked Jess on the way. Glad I slept near the door.

Magically Jess woke up, and we all got to listen to Jim fucking UNLOAD on the bathroom. He didn't make it near the toilet...he just lit up the whole room. Over and over. Finally, mercifully, he stopped. There was no noise for a minute or so....till Roger (who we thought slept through the whole thing) made a super loud puking noise.

Luckily for us, he was kidding. But it was damn funny.

Jim emerged from the shitter after 15 minutes or so, fully defeated. It was epic. I hadn't laughed that hard in a while. Fuck, I'm laughing about the look on his face right now, and this happened 3 months ago. I know it's kinda cold to laugh about...I guess you had to be there. Jess was laughing too. Does that make it better?

The best part of it all? So, the guy's got food poisoning from seafood...he feels terrible, he smells terrible, and he doesn't wanna move. What was on tap for the day, you ask?

Yup...SAILING! On the Ocean! Where it smells like seafood!

We drove down to the dock and got aboard the boat. It was 30-somethin feet long, with a cabin below. And it had sails n stuff. That's the best I can do to explain it. I know more about menstruation than I do about sailing, okay? (screw you, I had sisters that wouldn't shut up about it!). Here's me looking studly (yet clueless):



Jim's beached on a bunk below deck moaning in his sleep:



and Jess....well, Jess is dumb.



So...Roger pretty much had to do all of this himself. Okay, here's proof this Roger person I keep talking about actually exists...and that I like Pacifico:



As we got on the boat, he told us that it was super windy today, and "probably not safe to sail" and that "a boat sunk yesterday". Suuuure Roger...you're just trying to scare us...we're not gonna fall for that. Yea...till we saw this about 15 minutes into the trip:



Yes...that's actually a sunken boat. That wasn't scary at all. Honest.

The plan was to sail to Alcatraz, under the Golden Gate Bridge, and around the bay for awhile before we headed back. The wind was so crazy, we only made it as far as Alcatraz. Everytime we attempted to go towards the bridge, we...ended up back next to Alcatraz. This happened at least 10 times. I know now Alcatraz Island like the back of my hand.

In 6 hours of sailing, I managed to:

1. Drink 12+ Pacificos.

2. Almost get thrown overboard many times.

3. Get stuck underneath the steering wheel.

4. Make us do some really fast standing circles while I was wedged under said wheel.

5. Get a killer sunburn.

6. Pee all over everywhere when Roger thought it'd be funny to lurch the boat back and forth while I was doin my bizznass in the can.

7. Blow an airhorn inside the cabin where Jim WAS peacefully sleeping.

8. See a boathouse turned into the Taj Mahal on water.

I can't believe we survived the trip. All I can say is...sailing fucking rules. Seriously people, if you ever get the chance you should try it. Especially if you have Roger with you, cuz he knows what he's doing or something. If it wasn't for him, the other 2 would have had to use me as a floatation device and I'd be under the protection of Greenpeace right now. Thanks Roger!

After all that fun, we headed back to Sacramento and chilled out for the night. More Natty Light, and a great dinner. Jim and I had a super early flight, and Roger was once again nice enough to drive us to the airport. After an easy 2 hour flight...I had to go to work. Joyous.


EPILOGUE - For those of you that don't know, Jess and Jamie got married August 2nd. Roger and Marg came up to attend the wedding, and it was decided that the Sacramento trip should become an annual tradition. I'm only too happy to oblige. If Roger and Marg are willing to put up with our stupid asses once a year, I will do my best to try and make Jim throw up for as many years in a row as possible. Once again Roger and Marg, thank you for the hospitality...it was (and will be) much appreciated.

Jess has now moved to Boston for a kickass job. Normally it's a bad thing when one of your best friends moves across the country, but for me it's actually awesome. I now have a place to stay in one of the coolest cities on Earth, he's 5 hours closer to Iceland, and we WILL go to the moon! He's in Belize right now with Jamie. I hate him.

I'm going to Washington DC, Baltimore, and Boston in 2 weeks. Blogs will follow, if I survive the trip. DC has a bar with 1000 beers, Baltimore is "urban", and Jess and I are gonna drink New England to it's knees. You do the math.