Long Distance Bus Rides: A True Test of Emotional Endurance

Maybe you’re lucky. Maybe you’re one of those people who can afford a plane ticket to swiftly and comfortably transport you from one location to another one far, far away. For the rest of us, those of us with tight budgets, our only options are craigslist ride-shares or the bus.

If you’ve never taken a long distance bus ride, you’re really missing out on something that will open your eyes and reveal parts of the human condition that you never thought existed. You will find yourself in the company of the destitute and the forgotten. Societal zombies who roam the country, hungering for out of town family visits and possibly the opportunity to start life anew, far away from their probation officers and their dirty pasts. But be careful not to judge too harshly, because for the next twelve hours, you’re going to be one of them.

Your journey will begin at the bus station. Which, in most cities will be far away from the airport, in a bad neighborhood, far away from real business travelers and any decent restaurants. If you think it’s difficult getting a ride to the airport from a friend, getting a ride to the bus station is even worse. The ride to the station is a nice, sad precursor to what you’re about to experience, so it’s kind of necessary.

When you arrive, you’ll instantly feel depressed and begin questioning every decision you’ve ever made in your life that lead to this particular moment. When you look around you’ll find that most of your fellow passengers look as though they’re running through a similar scenario. Those that aren’t, the ones that seem content and patient, are the ones you’ve really got to watch out for. There is nothing more disturbing or frightening than the indifferent stare of a seasoned bus traveler. If you’re young and inquisitive, your first thought might be “I wonder what his backstory is?” Please don’t ask. Don’t ever ask. If you make the mistake of talking to one of these people, one of two things will happen: You will get a story that sounds legitimate and safe, but is full of holes. Or, you’ll get the real truth. The real truth will often involve heartbreak and criminal confessions and it’s never short. If you find yourself in one of these conversations, good luck getting out. Bus stations are small so you can’t really hide, and even if you put your headphones on, it won’t stop a truly crazy person from continuing to talk to you. You’ll also probably notice that almost every pay phone in the station will be in use. And if not in use, it’ll at least be operational. The bay of pay-phones complete the frozen-in-time atmosphere of every bus station you’ll ever visit.

Once you board the bus, which will only take a few minutes, since there’s no security check and nobody gives a shit about anything, you’ll grab an empty seat. You’ll watch as passengers board, and choose their seats. You’ll look at them, and in your head you’ll file them into two categories: People who you want to sit next to you, and people you don’t. It’s in your best interest to not do this, because by simply saying over and over again in your head “Please don’t sit next to me” as the sweatiest, dirtiest strangest person warbles towards your seat, you are subconsciously willing them to do so.

Now settle in, because this ride is going to feel like forever. It’s a ride like no other, because it’s full of people who’d rather not be there. Their collective hopelessness will fill the bus and create a cloud of discontentment so thick, you’ll feel like you’re choking on it. What you’ll actually be choking on is the smell of your seat-mates body odor, mixed with someone’s shitty perfume and a gyro another passenger just unwrapped. The next eight hours will feel like eight days and you’ll suddenly understand why everyone makes such a big deal about those who survived the Oregon Trail.

You’ll make one or two equally depressing pit-stops at a place with horrible meal options and dirty restrooms, then you’ll arrive at your destination. Your arrival point will be just like every other point along the way. They’re full of shitty coffee, a horrible food selection, and everyone’s outside smoking. The pay-phone banks will be full of people making desperate, urgent calls and even the reunions you witness will be oddly depressing. But the important thing is, you made it.