Uh-oh, this is going to be a long ride....

 

I tell my boyfriend he can leave now. I'm all set and ready to go. "This is going to be exciting!!" He looks doubtful but kisses me, turns, and walks away.

 

The terminal in downtown D.C. is crowded on this muggy evening, and as people chatter around me, I strain to hear the loudspeaker announce my departure.

 

Finally!

 

 

 

Me and more people than I thought possible watch our bags being thrown in the hold as we jostle each other and slowly make our way into the bus. I'm leaving the driving to them. "This was a great idea," I think as I climb the steps and start scanning the aisles for my seat....any seat....somewhere on this crowded bus.

 

 

 

 

There's my place at the back on the three-person bench....next to the guy with stringy blond hair....and, oh, I see....a bottle wrapped in a paper bag. Hmmm. I name him Bottle.

 

 

 

He graciously shares his three-seat spread with me, and turns toward the window just a bit. We smile and nod at each other, united in our appreciation of the relative roominess of the back bench seat, a prized location only somewhat marred by the bathroom right next to it. Bottle seems to know wordlessly that I won't mention his bottle to anyone. Bottle can drink all the way to Florida if he wants so long as he doesn't take up more than half of this fuzzy, fabric, multicolor splatter-printed seat. I hope the splatter is part of the print.

 

 

 

As we roll along, Bottle gets quieter as his namesake grows emptier, and I get more and more comfortable and spread out in my spacious seat.

 

 

We pull into Richmond's bus depot about two hours later.... to pick up more people. "Wait....where are they going to sit?" I ask myself. Oh, no....I know: my seat.

 

 

 

Bottle sits up a little straighter and we both watch as some people leave the bus and others get on. He sits up even straighter and spreads himself out as much as his rather wiry frame will allow, and I do the same. "Hey, you don't want to sit with us--no room back here!" we're saying with our bodies as people's eyes travel the almost full bus searching for open seats.

 

 

 

Looks like we made it. That was the last of them. Our bench seat escaped......

Oh, there's one more walking down the aisle--a woman, with an Easter basket the size of a toddler.

 

We are sitting on the only empty space left on this bus.

 

Correction--we were sitting on the only empty space left on this bus.

Easter Basket has that space now. By the bathroom.

 

 

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